


The Dragon Prince

by VasGaArt



Series: The Legends of Xadia [1]
Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Closely follows the story from season 1 to 3, F/M, Gen, Multi, Other, With a personal twist and interpretation of characters and story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:34:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 316,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27245077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VasGaArt/pseuds/VasGaArt
Summary: Humans and elves from both sides of Xadia have seen the moral wrongs and magical atrocities they both committed during their endless fighting. But what the world of Xadia hasn't seen are the lengths humans and elves are willing to go in an anticipation of all-out war. After an incredible discovery, an unlikely group of heroes bind together and go out of their way to prevent a conflict from happening.
Relationships: Callum & Ezran & Rayla (The Dragon Prince), Callum (The Dragon Prince) & Original Character(s), Callum/Rayla (The Dragon Prince), Ezran (The Dragon Prince)/Original Character(s), Rayla (The Dragon Prince) & Original Character(s)
Series: The Legends of Xadia [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1989241
Comments: 18
Kudos: 22





	1. Prologue

The birds chirped loudly, waking up those who were sleeping blissfully. The sun with its warming rays painted the forest brighter, as the luminescent plants dimmed into their slumber. A silky tenor voice rung out across the woods.

“Good morning, Xadia!” A teenager leapt to his feet, taking a deep breath. His arms stretched out wide, hugging the nature and air around him. He wanted to fully melt into this picture that was being painted before him, his eyes taking in the vibrant colours of the moss and shrubbery that contrasted well with the silver grass below him.

A crystal blue waterfall glided down the slope in the distance, calling to him to drink its water. That call was being fiercely competed with the indigo fruits that hanged low from the tree right in front of him. It glittered less brightly since the sun was coming up, but it still gave out an appealing glow. Breakfast was the most important part of the day, as he heard before.

The teenager carefully took the fruit and ate it with amazement and excitement as though it was his first time, savouring every single bite. However, his favourite and by far the most fun part was blowing out the air directly above him every so often, as he blew out the indigo glitters that made up the fruit’s glow.

He spread his hands and stood as the glitter fell back on him. For a moment he imagined that he was home and it was his birthday, and he was standing underneath the falling confetti, surrounded by his parents, aunt, uncle and his mother’s grandparents… or better, if it was just his grandmother and grandfather, who unfortunately was resting peacefully for the past several years.

He always carried his grandfather with him, as he honourably wielded his sword and proudly wore his cape with him. He unfolded it from his backpack to take a look at it. A green cape, with thin golden and magenta edges. In the middle of that cape was a calligraphic letter G sown in gold, the first letter of his family’s name. Above it, near where the nape of his neck would be, there was a shield with red edges. It was sky blue on the inside with the same golden letter G.

_You are a shield, you protect and stand up for those who cannot protect themselves. Their safety is the pinnacle of your priorities._

Around the shield were wavy orange outlines, which were supposed to be akin to a lion’s mane, but it also resembled to him an outline of a fire.

_You are what you choose and how you express yourself. You can never become better without making mistakes. Do not be afraid of your convictions; pity those who are brave enough to stand against you, but respect them for it all the same. You can all learn something from each other._

He put it on, letting the cape gracefully drape around him as it reached down and rested just above his ankles, wavering lightly as a gentle breeze whooshed past, playing with it. Wherever he went, his family would always be with him… in his mind and in spirit.

Soon it would be a third time he spent his birthday away from them… and this ‘confetti’ would be a great way to imagine celebrating it, even if he did that fairly often and it wouldn’t be any different or special on the day. There was no denying however, that it would be difficult to come up with something special and unique to do on his birthday, as every day in Xadia was special… every day was like a present to him.

The teenager picked up his backpack, which had all the necessary materials and supplies… but was also made heavier by the books he read. A smile came across his face as his mind drifted towards that waterfall. Its peak was covered in brilliant white snow and there was no doubt that it would be a stunning view from up there, despite the chilling temperatures. He loved snow so much, cold weather might as well have been part of his nature anyway, so it was never going to deter or scare him.

He would usually do a morning exercise when he woke up, but he was too excited to get to the peak. He wasn’t sure what was quicker, his walking speed or his mind trying not to overload with anticipation of beauty. He spun around and stopped a couple of times whenever he wanted to take in a little more out of his surroundings. He could never get tired of this! The yellow, orange and red leaves shook elegantly in the breeze, as the sun saturated the colours even more. The red grass beneath him like a slick carpet led the way down the hill.

He halted suddenly, as he heard a strange noise in the distance. He couldn’t quite exactly make out what it was yet, but it was a disturbance in an otherwise peaceful environment. The teenager ran towards it, using the trees to break up any potential line of sight. At the bottom of the hill he saw a group of armoured guards – elves. They were Earthblood elves, to be precise, but it wouldn’t really make any difference.

He quickly hid behind a tree, any encounters with the residents of Xadia needed to be down to a minimum, especially when they were well armoured and in greater numbers. There was no human encountered this side of Xadia, especially this deep, for hundreds of years… well, until he showed up two and a half years ago. Some reactions were a sight to behold and those slacked jaws would be forever etched in his memory. Some of them were pretty dangerous, but in hindsight he couldn’t look back at it without laughing. He learned later that it would be much better to stay incognito and build up rapport over time, before safely revealing himself. Very few knew of his existence… thankfully he made those mistakes early in his journey, so it could have easily been covered up to a dark mage’s bold endeavour beyond the normal safe distance from the border, to collect magical plants and creatures to use in their spells. It was the only believable explanation, in fact.

 _Humans were born without magic, unlike elves. So, why would a human travel into Xadia apart from taking what’s not theirs and using it in vile Dark Magic spells, which were otherwise impossible to perform?_ One would ask.

 _Well, actually, to study and learn this fascinating land, brimming with magic, wonder and culture – intellectual curiosity in other words._ He would answer.

Although his ‘curiosity’ did spawn a few rumours and gossips about a mysterious hooded traveller with a green cape who was seen multiple times across Xadia. At least he wasn’t known, unlike in the Human Kingdoms, or Western Xadia as he preferred to call it… while no one else did.

The teenager snapped out of his trail of thought and looked ahead as the patrol passed on safely, while he headed in the opposite direction. Scaling to the top of the waterfall was going to be difficult. It was in that moment he sorely missed Ibis, the Skywing elf, and his ability to grow wings for his hands. He could certainly do with a lift up there, but he already did most things on his own, so this was just going to be a normal day… oh, how wrong he was.

He heard a bellowing roar, followed by screams. The teenager rushed head first towards the screams, not stopping for anything. When he approached the source of the noise he met with the worst possible scenario he could have got. It was an Earthblood elf family, they looked pretty young and they had a young boy. He wasn’t sure what they were doing here, but he didn’t care. They were defenceless… against a big charcoal black animal that the teenager never saw before. This was going to be his morning exercise… and maybe even a proper daily workout.

The teenager never stopped running, for a split second he considered if he should get his cloak out and conceal himself. It would have been dangerous to expose himself… but the family’s life was in greater danger. They would be breakfast for that creature by the time he got his cloak out and put it on. Without hesitation or slowing down, as he was about to make his presence known, he dropped the backpack and quickly scanned his surroundings. The creature was scaly on his back; the front had to be his weak spot… it was a guess. His back legs were slightly bigger than the front two… maybe he liked to lunge a lot?

It was about to pounce on the family. The teenager let out a bellowing cry, bringing the attention of the creature to him. Even the family looked stupefied, how did a human know the common military tactic of their people… even his powerful, immovable stance screamed Earthblood elf to them. The creature looked complacent, as he expected the teenager to be something bigger.

He had a few seconds to conjure up his next move. Above him, he saw a low hanging branch from the tree behind him… was it sturdy enough? The creature growled, trying to intimidate the defender.

 _Time to combine the agility and prowess of Moonshadow elves with a little of Skywing elf trickery._ He flung his sword up sticking it straight into that branch, then held his hands up to look intimidated.

“Hey, buddy, I know you were just looking for breakfast but I don’t appreciate your choice of meal.” The teenager said nonchalantly. The creature growled at him, who continued cheekily and confidently, grinning a little. “You know before a main course, you should always have a starter… an appetiser.” The teenager bent his knees. “And they are hard to make… or in your case, catch.” He sharply turned around and ran as quickly as he could.

He could feel the creature lunging at him by the vibrations of the ground. The teenager jumped up to the bark and off of it towards the sword, leaving the tricked creature just beneath him, as it collided with the dark bark of the tree, his paw just missing his legs. The branch did not fail him, as he used the momentum to swing further away from the stunned creature.

It was angry and after a quick recovery, eyed the teenager again. He planned to gain as much of his first move advantage as possible… he sprinted towards it. The creature did likewise. They were about to clash, but the creature did not know better, that no calculating man does the same trick twice… especially in quick succession. It lunged upwards thinking, he would do the same, but that revealed his belly.

Thankfully, his guess was right… it was a weak spot. He slid past it, leaving his sword pointing upwards, slicing and gutting the creature’s belly open. It fell with a heavy thud, slain by combination of fighting techniques that were brought together by human wit and ingenuity… the day was saved.

The teenager stood up, sheathing his sword, his back towards the family. There was deadly silence. His head dropped slightly… it wasn’t going to be a good interaction.

“Thank you.” The teenager heard and turned… of course it was a young little boy who said it, but he was quickly hushed and embraced by his mother.

“Leave.” The father, he assumed, stood up, with his arms crossed. He tried to look intimidating, but even if the teenager was built of sturdy stuff, both physically and figuratively, the elf in front of him literally looked like a rock. He even had moss growing on some of his body parts.

The teenager walked slowly to pick up his backpack. As he was putting it on, he noticed a knocked over basket to the side, not too close to the family. There were some fruits rolling out of it. He walked towards it and slowly bent down, placing the fruit back in the basket.

“You greedy humans,” the father continued scolding. “You only take and take. Absolute vile liars and tainted beasts. Nothing you do is out of the goodness of your heart. Take it all, just leave us alone!”

The teenager grabbed the basket and gently and elegantly approached the family. The mother covered the child and the father shielded them. There was no fear in their eyes… only hatred. It was awful. They looked at him like he was a disease… toxic, poisonous and wretched. Their eyes, disgusted by his mere presence, pierced like tiny needles into his body. Somehow this was worse than facing an animal. The crux of it was that the mind was shaper than any swords or claws could ever be.

Their expressions were slowly overturned with such confusion, they practically became paralysed. The teenager placed the basket in front of them.

“I do not need anything from you,” his tone remained polite. “I’m glad that the creature, whatever it was, didn’t hurt you. I assume this is yours, so I’m giving it back to you.” He smiled as he remembered an old memory. “I knew a general who told me that breakfast was the most important meal of the day. I’ve already had mine.” He clapped his hands together. “Have a wonderful day.” He walked away, holding his back straight.

Something began to bother and linger in his conscious…

 _Tap… Tap…_ He did the right thing, even if travelling was going to be more dangerous, when the rumours of a human in Eastern Xadia spread around like an infection.

 _Tap… Tap…_ They were alive and that was what mattered.

His mind became clear, once again. He didn’t pay attention to the sounds that followed, as they probably kicked the basket in disgust. He had no wish to focus on their negativity, as he headed towards the waterfall. Even if the family alerted the patrol, there was no way they would find or catch him at the peak of that mountain. If fate so wished and worse came to worst, he loved a new challenge. He always wanted to do and be better. It wouldn’t be easy, but he had more than a dozen of tricks up his sleeves. They didn’t know him and they wouldn’t know what had even hit them.

“You have a funny way of greeting people.” He quietly said to himself, closing his eyes and smiling sweetly. The world was so beautiful, bright and living. Throughout the day it enchanted you like a beautiful waltzing melody and at night that song became a lullaby to wish you sweet dreams. It was worth fighting for. He took another deep breath. “But still, good morning to you, Xadia!”

* * *

“Tell us another one, grandad!” The kids could barely contain their excitement. The grandad sighed.

“I’ve told you so many, I’ve lost track. I suppose it would be best if I go in order and start from the beginning.” The kids finally quietened down.

“Finally, we’ll get to hear everything about the heroes, The Legends of Xadia themselves!” One of the kids exclaimed.

“This legend… story is a really long one. It will take more than one night to tell it, as history is a deep and complicated matter.” The kids were whining that this wasn’t going to be done quickly, but the grandfather insisted firmly. “We must remain informed if we are to avoid the mistakes of the past and choose better every time.” The kids obliged, too eager for him to start.

“Thousands of years ago, the elves and humans lived in Xadia, side by side, similar to the way we do now. Xadia is a fascinating land, filled with magic and beauty. There are six primal sources of magic: Sky, Sun, Moon, Stars, Earth and Ocean. Each magical beast, dragon and elf are born with an Arcanum, a connection, to a respective primal source. The humans were less fortunate, and were not born with an Arcanum and couldn’t do any magic. They were seen as lesser, inviting friction that would burn the continent in half. One of the humans was able to extract magic from magical plants and creatures in order to produce powerful spells. This practice became known as Dark Magic. Horrified by what they saw, the elves exiled humans to the Western side of Xadia, splitting the continent in two by creating a river of lava. The elves and other dragons served The Dragon King as the most powerful creature in Xadia. Many years later the turn to guard the border befell on The Dragon King Avizandum, or Thunder as humans appropriately called him. He was a ruthless king and viewed humans with contempt, killing any human he saw who dared to cross the border. Things however wouldn’t last forever and many years ago, the king of Katolis, Harrow, killed Avizandum and destroyed his egg, the heir to his throne. The world anticipated an all-out war, and in that state of anticipation the skirmishes became a regular occurrence. Many good people died, but in their absence men with greater purposes rose to the call. Some of these men became heroes and idols of their respective people, but five of these greater men, who selflessly sought to leave the world in a better state, became The Legends of Xadia. Although they may have this status of hailed heroes now, all of them were simply children at some point of their lives and they did not necessarily get accepted by others right away. This is a story of how ordinary folk became something greater than themselves, and how through choice many can achieve the same, if not greater than The Legends themselves.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the journey begins. Welcome to my hobby over the last six or so months. Before we begin, I want to clarify a few things. I've started writing this back in April and this work is my understanding and interpretation of the show. Yes, this means that the arcs and the story will not be much different from what you see in the show. However, I stress that I do not religiously follow the script. In this story I focus more into what the characters are feeling and thinking, something I really enjoyed imagining, since it is difficult to show that on screen. I hope that perhaps some people will be challenged to consider and take into account different points of view of some things that happen in the show. There will be many occasions where timings, dialogue, scenes and other things that do not happen exactly as seen in the show. If you see something in text that doesn't line up with what the show portrays, then it is most likely done on purpose. However, most of the differences will be small and will not blatantly go against the show.  
> As I mentioned in my tags, there is a personal twist to the story. I wanted to fiddle with the story and add something personal that could spice it up and help me explore and deliver other points (hopefully I will do it successfully and you'll enjoy it and maybe even learn something too). The personal additions mostly come in two forms. First, the story adds more emphasis and importance to one of the minor characters than the show did. Secondly, a new protagonist is added to the story (you already met him in this prologue). All of this will have impact on dynamics of the story and bring original scenes.  
> In conclusion, I really hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it, especially looking into the characters' potential thoughts and throwing my own stamp on the story here and there. I've mostly done it for my own enjoyment to pass time during quarantine, but it took on a form of passionate hobby really quickly. I've bit the bullet and decided to post it, after one of my friends kept insisting that I should (Hi! You know who you are. Also thanks). Although this goes without saying, you should really watch the show first, before reading this, since it will spoil it completely.  
> Thank you in advance for reading this and I hope you enjoy it!


	2. No Place in War for Goodhearted Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Callum and Ezran, life in Katolis seemed nice and quiet, as they were slowing growing up, despite the threat of war that was looming over everyone's head. However one night, a miraculous escape from a certain Commander, was going to unknowingly turn their worlds upside down.

The sounds of the raindrops splatting across the window were almost soothing in the dead of night… of course, if they weren’t occasionally interrupted by the flash of lightning and thunder.

_Bang!_

Callum almost jumped up from his desk, he wasn’t expecting the thunder to be this deafening. He sighed, calming himself down, and looked at his drawings on the desk and wall in front of him. He saw loads of drawings involving a short, young teenager, with piercing green eyes, round face and messy hair. In the series of drawings, he was sword fighting, riding a horse and leading an army. In one of the drawings he was seen kneeling in front of a maid presenting her a flower of such beauty, that could only befit her. In every sketch his posture exuded bravery and confidence, which was complimented by his wide chest, covered in regal armour and an exquisite longsword held by his muscly hands.

Callum blinked his green eyes and rolled them.

 _Who am I kidding, other than myself?_ He thought to himself. His brilliant drawings he was looking at, were a painful reminder of the expectations of other people in carrying out his duties as a prince… and how excruciatingly far off he was. That scrawny little kid was still fighting with a wooden sword and couldn’t stay on a horse for longer than a heartbeat. At that thought of himself, a wave of fatigue overwhelmed and pummelled him, just like the raindrops pummelled the window next to him.

He stood up and walked back to his bedroom. On his way he peaked into his younger half-brother’s bedroom. Ezran looked so peaceful when he slept, with his brown locks running against his darker coloured cheek. Callum was surprised that Ezran was able to sleep through this… then again with his pet glowtoad, Bait, in his hands, Ezran could sleep through anything. Even though Bait, whose small and bulky frog shaped yellow body with massive cow-like turquoise spots and four tiny paws, looked grumpier in his sleep than usual. Callum smiled. At the very least Ezran was warm, dry, protected and surrounded by those who loved him.

* * *

A soaked, cold and lonely figure drifted through the woods. Marcos, the newly promoted section commander of the Katolis army, was patrolling around, tightly gripping his extinguished torch. He couldn’t stop shivering, beating himself up over a bad day he was having. On his first day as a commander he had made tons of mistakes, epitomised by him patrolling himself instead of forcing his warriors to do the rounds properly. Worst of all, he was doing it on his own.

 _If something happened, nobody would know… or at least for a while, which could be too much._ He tried to think about something else, anything to distract himself from a rainy day.

_Bang!_

Marcos jumped, nearly dropping his torch. He swore he saw something move… or maybe he was just imagining it, after all it was the middle of the night… then a twig cracked. His head jerked to his left. He began to panic. His eyes were wide open. There were shapes in the shadows. He wasn’t sure if his mind was playing tricks on him. He prayed it was. He blinked. Twice. Then again. The shapes were not going away… he wasn’t alone! His breath picked up pace. Then there was a flash of lightning. The shapes were real!

 _Wait! Were those… horns?!_ He almost gasped.

Marcos’s heartbeat began to muffle the noise around him, his mind screaming with one word – Run! He turned around and sprinted as fast as he could back to the castle.

 _You had to go out alone! Why?! Why?! Why?!_ He was ridiculing himself, just as much as his legs began to burn. Someone was chasing him. The leaves of the trees above him whipped, as though someone was jumping from branch to branch.

Marcos looked up, but couldn’t see anything. Fear was running through his body, unsure of where the danger was going to come from. If only he could warn the others.

 _Survive! For the sake of the kingdom! For King Harrow!_ Marcos tried to focus on it, but felt gravity pulling him down. He plummeted down a slippery hill and face first into a shallow pool of water.

He tried to get up, but the water behind him splashed. The elf was there, not even huffing. He threw his torch at her – sliced in half. She took a step towards him. Marcos unsheathed his sword, only for her to disarm him. Marcos tried to crawl away, only to have two swords over his neck, crossed between each other.

Judging by the blades, it was an assassin. He looked up at the elf. Black and teal clothing, she was a Moonshadow elf. Beneath her hood was white hair and a pair of violet eyes. The same coloured triangular line ran down on both sides from the bottom of her eyelid to her cheek. Marcos was shocked. It would be a huge stretch to even call her a young adult, she was a teenager at best!

At such a young age she would already have blood on her hands, as she bested him. Then again, Marcos could just about be called a young adult. He became acutely aware of how quickly his heart was beating and banging against his chest. His breath became shallower, shorter and sharper. He locked eyes with her, the last pair of eyes he was ever going to see.

He failed the kingdom… the shortest serving commander ever, who paid dearly for his mistakes on the very first day. He thought of his friends, his family and how he was never going to have one of his own, the children that he will never have, the happiness he was never going to experience…

_Bang!_

Her mouth opened and her eyes widened. Could she read his mind? Elves, Moonshadow assassins especially, were supposed to be these cold, bloodthirsty and ruthless creatures. But this one… her eyes looked human as they were filled with emotions. Was she feeling sorry for him?

Her blades lowered slightly. Marcos took his chance and began to crawl away. He got up and looked at her one last time. She stood there, in the middle of the puddle, with her head lowered. Her conscious was being crushed by the weight of her actions. Marcos didn’t even bother to pick up his sword, as he ran towards the castle.

Rayla stood there for a while… soaked, cold and alone.

* * *

“Pick your sword up.” Soren ordered. Callum obliged and followed him into the courtyard.

Soren was a strapping young man, an indication that he took much greater care of his body than of his mind and intellect. His blond hair waved in the wind and his blue eyes looked energetic in the morning’s sun. Soren was much older than Callum and almost looked like a big brother, when they walked side by side.

“Today you will be learning the art…” Soren glanced at Callum, wondering if he was listening.

“Art? Finally, something I’m good at!” Callum’s face filled with excitement.

“… of swordsmanship.” Soren got the kick out of watching Callum’s face drop.

They stood opposite each other and began their practice. Almost immediately Soren had to fix Callum’s stance and grip.

 _If Ezran is as bad as Callum is, then this kingdom is a lost cause._ Soren thought to himself. _Looks like me and my dad will have to work harder than ever._

Soren didn’t think that training the princes would be a responsibility of the Crown Guard, a position he desired ever since he was a young kid. He trained long and hard every day, and when the previous Crown Guard retired a few months ago, he was put forward by both King Harrow and General Amaya, making him the youngest Crown Guard Katolis ever had. Even though his dad, Viren, didn’t put him forward for some reason.

Soren hoped that dad was still proud of his achievement, just as Soren immensely was. However even though no one else deserved this position more than Soren did, he couldn’t help but feel concerned about the kingdom. It felt as though for the past several years, Katolis seemed to have been stagnating, if not degrading. Katolis, the biggest kingdom in Xadia, let alone in the Pentarchy, once at the forefront of the human kingdoms, was losing steam and appointing young and inexperienced warriors, such as himself and Marcos. Soren thought that this was because people were turning soft and maybe Katolis failed to produce capable and strong people that could successfully serve Katolis and humanity.

There were a lot of good men before from the human kingdoms, but they all laid their lives in the war against the elves. The kingdoms were forced to come up with better, more efficient ways of producing these great men, so they combined their forces and invented these highly demanding training programmes and tournaments that ran across the entirety of the Pentarchy. The programme forced nearly every young child to participate in the training sessions until completion, which was only done after visiting and practicing for a minimum amount of time in all of the kingdoms, forming a balanced, versatile and well-rounded fighting technique. The highlight and a way of assessment was The Pentarchy Tournament, which was held every two years and was supposed to showcase the brilliance of all the youth between thirteen and fifteen years of age, from each of the five kingdoms in the art of war.

Soren participated in them, at the age of thirteen. That year Katolis crushed it, winning every single category – single, double, team duels and faction battles. It was also that year that a breakthrough occurred, a young kid from Katolis who was touted to lead the humans to glory against the elves. He was extremely hyped up and became popular across the entire of The Human Kingdoms, so much so that the people called him ‘He’, ‘That Guy’, ‘The kid from the competition’ and other similar nicknames. But only a year later, the kid disappeared… ran away.

There were a few claims and incidents within the first year of him being seen across the Pentarchy, the biggest one that gained traction across the entirety of the Human Kingdoms was in Duren, a central kingdom that bordered Katolis to the north. The incident took place in a tavern with the aftermath of four beaten up guys. The barman, who saw the whole thing, claimed that the men had knives and a sword and He defeated them using only a stool.

Soren doubted the reliability of these sources, nor did he believe in any of the stories; it was ridiculous to suggest that four grown men were beaten by a fourteen year old kid, with just a stool. Despite all of the sightings and incidents nearly four years have passed since he was last seen.

 _Why did that traitor run away?_ Soren thought to himself. _Was He right about everything all along?_

His thoughts got interrupted when Callum swung his sword at his ankles. Soren casually lifted his right foot and stood on Callum’s wooden sword. He crossed his arms.

“What was that?”

“I was trying to sweep the legs,” Callum said.

“Ugh, why does everyone think that it’s a viable option? Listen to me, sweeping the legs never works… ever,” he lifted his foot off of his sword. “And by the way step-prince, in the short amount of time, you’ve suffered twelve lethal blows, this was your thirteenth.” Callum’s face was blank, but Soren was grinning. He could tell that he was exasperated, firstly with the word ‘step-prince’, secondly with the fact that he counted the blows.

Soren noticed his sister enter the courtyard.

“Hey, Clauds!”

Callum quickly got up and looked to his left. She was reading a book about Dark Magic, Callum presumed. Her olive green eyes were quickly moving along the page and then back. Her long black hair was resting on her shoulder and her back. Callum could never stop being enchanted by one of her hair strands, that had purplish tinge on the end. It made her look… different, unique even.

“Hi Claudia.” Callum finally spoke.

“Hi,” Claudia said without looking up from her book. Callum thought she looked so beautiful when she was lost in a book, although it made her completely forget about what was going on around her, as she was heading straight into a tree.

“Hey Clau…” Callum got lightly elbowed in his chest. Soren put his finger to his lips, urging to wait and see what would happen. Callum hesitated, while Soren was waiting in anticipation to laugh.

“Watch out for that tree, Claudia!” Callum exclaimed. Soren’s shoulders dropped. Claudia stopped with the tree just inches from her nose and book. She looked right at the bark in front of her.

“A tree? Since when it is here?” She asked with her wheezing and slightly raspy voice.

“At least a century, three centuries to be more precise.” Callum chuckled lightly.

“Well, that’s a long while… don’t know how I never noticed it before. But thanks for warning me, Callum.” She sat on the bench next to tree and gave Callum a smile, before going back to her book.

“You’re always welcome.” Callum smiled back. Her smile was absolutely enchanting, as was her strange voice. Soren finally gave him a look. He was frowning.

“Yeah, because the step-prince is no fun!”

“I guess watching, causing and enjoying people getting hurt is your specialty Soren.” Callum said before he could stop himself.

Soren was taken aback by Callum’s response; he usually wasn’t the one to speak out. After a brief pause Soren regained his composure.

“Yeah, you’re right, it is my specialty. What’s yours? Anything useful? Because art sure isn’t!” Callum looked crestfallen; Soren went too far. He liked to make fun out of Callum… a lot. He almost always was the butt end of his jokes. He liked to see Callum suffer. Sometimes he crossed the line; this was one of these times. However unlike the previous times, he never saw Callum so defeated and hurt by his words. He truly hated seeing that, especially after he just looked out for his sister, that he clearly had a crush on. Soren sighed. He had to make it up to him, he was his friend after all.

“Alright, listen. I’m going to strike from above, then from your left. You parry them both and then immediately thrust your sword under my left shoulder.” Callum looked confused, but before he could say anything Soren turned to Claudia. “Hey Clauds, watch how easily I’m going to beat Callum… again!”

Claudia finally raised her eyes from the book.

“Please don’t. There’s no need to be so mean all the time, Sorebear.”

“Too late!” He turned back to Callum lowering his voice to a whisper. “You ready?”

Callum finally realised what he was doing.

“C’mon, Callum you’ve got this… I hope… please?” He heard Claudia’s support.

Soren counted down and swung his sword overhead, screaming to make it look like it was a surprise attack. Callum parried, then again, after Soren struck from Callum’s left. Callum quickly plunged his sword by Soren’s side. Soren clutched the sword dropping the other one to the ground.

“Aah, how is it possible??? I am slain!” Soren dropped to his knees and then to the side.

Callum grinned; Soren had a knack for the dramatic, but he wasn’t a good actor. The fact that Soren followed through with his plan was surprising to Callum, he was expecting him to do something right at the last moment. But that was a really nice gesture from him, it was almost too good to be true from Soren.

“Thanks.” Callum said as he went towards Claudia, who looked extremely impressed.

“You’re always welcome.” Soren mocked Callum. There he was, the Soren he knew, things were back to normal.

“Now I am not particularly enthused with you killing my brother,” Claudia said as Callum approached her. “But I will forgive you this one time, since apparently he killed you more than once already.” They laughed.

Soren was getting up, when he heard someone call his name. It was his father.

“We need to see the king, it’s about the incident.”

* * *

Rayla was trudging back towards her camp, swords still unsheathed and clean after the rain. She wasn’t paying any attention to her surroundings, her mind deep in thought. Did she do the right thing or did she choose poorly?

 _You were told by Runnan to go after the guard and execute him! What kind of an assassin defies the order of her leader, let alone fail to kill?_ She ridiculed to herself looking down at the bindings on her wrist and forearm. _But he did nothing wrong, all he did was be at the wrong place, at the wrong time._ She kept staring at the bindings. It reminded her of the assassin’s binding ritual they did last night, before the whole incident with the guard. It reminded her of why they and she was here. _We were sent by the Dragon Queen Zubeia to kill King Harrow and Prince Ezran, for killing the Dragon King and destroying his only egg. We serve justice and decide life and death, not right or wrong. We’ve given up our breath for freedom! Our eyes for truth! Our strength for honour! Our blood for justice! Our heart for Xadia! Life is precious and valuable, we take it but never lightly! Moon reflects sun, as death reflects life!_ She paused. _That guard did not take away life, we shouldn’t take away his._

It made sense in her head, but no matter how much she tried to tell herself how she wasn’t wrong, she knew the others wouldn’t get it. A good hearted assassin, who hadn’t killed and had no right to call herself an assassin. The others would blame her for failing… again.

 _Just like my…_ she squinted. Even the thought of finishing that sentence made her so ashamed. _Wait! Moonberries,_ she stopped in her tracks, looking at a bush full of juicy and ripe Moonberries. _It would look just like blood…_ a shortcut; there would be no need to have a scene over the fact that she hesitated to kill that guard. They were planning to get closer to the castle anyway, so no doubt there would be a patrol party there.

She quickly picked a handful and started crushing them against her blades. These ones were extra juicy, it spread so easily. After waiting for the juice to dry up a bit and having a few of those berries herself, Rayla marched back towards the camp, with a confident pose that hid the truth.

Once she finally arrived, she was greeted by a scene of four of her fellow elves, Andromeda, Callisto, Skor and Ram, all sharping their swords. They all looked at Rayla… then at her blades… they all nodded and went back to sharping their swords. Rayla gave a quiet sigh of relief, then went towards her tent.

Runnan was meditating by his tent, his long hair made him look like a wise old man, but he was young, despite being the eldest in the group, as he was on the cusp of his thirties. He had two tattoos across his nose, from one cheek to another in a shape of an arrow that peaked at the bridge of his nose, a mark of an assassin squad leader. His emerald green eyes shot open when Rayla was approaching him and her tent. They looked at each other. It felt like an awkward silence for Rayla, but she dared not walk away and clean her blades. Runnan finally broke the silence.

“A bit too much for show, don’t you think?”

“Well, it’s the first kill, yo…”

“Who do you take me for, Rayla?”

“What do you mean? My first kill, I…”

“Do you think I’m a fool?!” Runnan raised his voice, the rest of the group looked in their direction.

“No… I…”

“Do you care to explain how your swords are still bloody, even though it was pouring with rain all of last night?”

“I…” she stammered and looked to the ground away from Runnan, he took a step towards her.

“You didn’t kill that guard, I know you didn’t. Why?”

“Because I couldn’t!” All eyes were trained on her. The silence was killing her, it felt almost worse than Runnan shouting at her. “I just… I looked into his eyes and he was just so… afraid!”

“Of course he was. You had him; he was at your mercy. Why didn’t you kill him?”

“How could I? He did nothing wrong? We were sent by the Dragon Queen to kill Harrow and his son. I couldn’t take his life as well!”

“In not taking his, you’ve killed us all!” Runnan announced gravely.

Rayla was crestfallen. She didn’t want to hear him say it nor anyone else to know that she failed, not only in killing the guard but also hiding that fact from her squad. No matter how much she tried to rationalise her decision to herself, she never felt right about it, because no one else agreed with her.

“Go into your tent and get ready, we’re moving towards the castle, before the humans can find us here.” Runnan commanded her. Rayla obliged.

Once again, she was cut off from her group, alone and misunderstood.

* * *

“My liege?” Viren slowly opened the door and peaked into the throne room.

It was a grand room with a high ceiling and many windows lighting the entire room in bright sunny rays. Tapestries, with crimson red and gold colours and with two castle towers, one shorter than the other, could be seen covering the room and decorating the pillars. Those towers were considered the tallest to be ever built in the Human Kingdoms and were a symbol of the impenetrable castle of Katolis. At the far end of the throne room was the wooden throne itself. It was surrounded by the banners and colours of the Katolis emblem, but otherwise the throne was simple in its nature.

King Harrow was standing in the middle of the throne room talking to the soldiers, with Marcos amongst them. Harrow’s clothing was matching the tapestries, almost camouflaging him, but it contrasted well with his dark skin and dark brown hair. It helped his lighter brown eyes stand out a little amongst his straight and grand posture that defined his presence, probably protruding its surroundings. Harrow asked the guards to stand to the side and turned towards the door.

“Viren, my friend, there really is no need for that. Please come in.” Viren entered the throne room, with Soren following closely behind him.

Viren was a tall man, with black and grey clothing, that matched his short hair and beard. His golden and light grey shoulder lapels were connected by a golden chain with a purple stone in the middle. His golden belt connected the top and bottom halves of his body, that otherwise presented a lean figure. In his right hand Viren held his staff, that was wider at the top. The handle, which was also located at the top, was hidden by a small purple stone, similar to the one on the chain, with what looked like wings coming off of it. In his other hand Viren was holding a basket, with muffled hissing noises coming out of it. Soren was clearly disturbed by that but tried to look unfazed. They both approached Harrow.

“Harrow, I’ve got a solution to our problem.” Viren initiated.

“First of all, good day to you all. Soren how was the training with Callum? I hope he has ‘died’ one less time than he did previously?”

“Well,” Soren hesitated for a bit. “He did get me once, although I went easy on him that one time.”

“I’m glad he has shown some progress, albeit he is still far off. He doesn’t particularly enjoy it, so please remind him to be patient and remain patient yourself. I’m sure he will get it with time.” Soren nodded, but Harrow wasn’t sure how much Soren took to what he said. “Anyways Soren, you and Marcos are to lead a search party for the Moonshadow assassins. Be careful, they are elite warriors and probably the best Xadia has to offer – fast, agile and unnaturally precise. Which is why we assembled the best warriors we have. It is imperative you succeed before nightfall.” Soren was slightly confused by the time pressure, Viren interrupted.

“Soren, it is the full moon tonight, and as you may guess Moonshadow elves gain their powers from the moon. Moonshadow assassins will become practically invisible and alongside their elite level of swordsmanship, it will make them unstoppable. There is only one man who could potentially stand a chance against them… but He ran away.” Soren noticed Harrow giving the most disapproving look he has seen, before Viren continued. “In order to maximise your chances for success, go to Claudia and ask for ‘ _Archangel Lunaris_ ’ or Moonmoths in other words. They are attracted to beasts that are connected with the moon; they will lead the way. Now go, Soren, get ready, you don’t have much time.”

“Marcos, take the men and let’s go get ready. We’re leaving now.” Soren quickly left the throne room with his party. All that remained was Viren, Harrow and a handful of guards on duty.

“You do know they came here for you, right?” Viren probed.

“It is time to pay for my deeds, Viren. After all, I was the one to kill Thunder and I allowed you to destroy the egg of The Dragon Prince. We are in this situation because of the actions we both took.” Harrow said calmly.

“There is no need for that.” Viren said upbeat. Harrow turned to him looking confused. “As your closest advisor and your best friend, I’ve got a creative solution.” Viren pointed to the basket in his left hand that was making hissing noises.

“You’re certainly not proposing to have a picnic.” Harrow looked uncomfortable with those hissing noises.

“No.” Viren replied airily and opened the basket. In it was a black snake with two heads. Their toxic green eyes looked hungrily at Harrow.

“And how is that going to help?”

“Well, these snakes come from the Midnight Desert and are known as soulfangs. They are called like that because they feed off of the souls of the living creatures, leaving them barely alive with no soul, an empty husk. However a two headed soulfang instead of draining the soul allows for the two bitten victims to swap bodies.”

“What are you suggesting, Viren?” Harrow tensed.

“Is it not obvious?” Viren asked. Harrow was reluctant to state the obvious – yet another shortcut. He was also not in the mood to truly express his feelings about the whole idea. “The elves have come here to kill you, this gives you an opportunity to escape through another body and continue ruling Katolis. You can survive this!”

“But the person I swap with will die. He will be sacrificed.”

“These soldiers are willing to sacrifice their life for yours.” Viren pointed to the guards on duty.

Harrow sighed. There was a slight pause, then he looked right into Viren’s eyes and got closer to him.

“As my closest advisor and my best friend, would you sacrifice your life for me?” Viren was taken aback, he hesitated and did not respond immediately. “As I thought,” Harrow looked away in disgust and disappointment. “Leave!”

Viren was about to reply, but was interrupted by someone opening the door.

“Your highness… oh… Lord Viren. My apologies, I will come in later.”

“Callum,” Harrow’s face turned softer immediately. “You’re not interrupting anything, we’re actually finished.” Harrow turned to the guards. “Please leave us alone.”

Callum entered the room, fixing his strap, that was attached to his drawing book, on his shoulder. He wanted to ask about what was going on, what was this ‘incident’ that Viren mentioned in the courtyard. Everyone departed the throne room, until it was just him and Harrow, alone.

Harrow never remained alone with someone in the throne room, there were always guards with him on patrol, but not this time. That made Callum uneasy, the high ceiling and the fact that Harrow was a giant compared to Callum didn’t help. Callum swore he could hear his breath echoing in the room, but Harrow was not reacting. Callum took a deeper breath.

 _Don’t panic; nothing has happened yet._ Callum told himself. He finally looked at Harrow and asked nervously. “Is there something wrong?”

“Well… Callum, I heard some good things. How was your training today?”

“It was ok.”

“I believe you’ve beaten Soren today?”

“He let me.”

“But you still beaten him.”

“I don’t think that counts.”

“What did you do after that?” Harrow asked. Callum blushed a little in response. He pointed to his book, lifting it a little.

“You know… drawing… the usual,” Callum said unconvincingly giving out a nervous laugh. Harrow clearly didn’t buy it, he smirked.

“I’ve noticed you have been talking a lot to Claudia recently. She is a fine young lady.”

“What? No! I mean… she is a fine young lady, but… you know… she is… just a friend,”Callum started to fiddle with his fingers.

“I’ll stop embarrassing you then, just know you can talk to me about those things, we’re family after all.”

“Yes, sir,” Callum said politely. “But you haven’t answered my question. Is there something wrong?”

Harrow sighed. “We are both not good at keeping our feelings totally hidden. I want you and Ezran to pack up and go to the Banther lodge this evening.”

“Our winter residence? Why, it’s spring? What are we going to do there anyway?”

“Well, you can entertain yourselves.”

“How? There is no snow!”

“Well, instead of snowmen you can always build… _mudmen_.” Harrow gave a weak smile, Callum rolled his eyes.

“That does not sound particularly appealing to me, and especially to Ezran. Besides the point, are you not coming with us?”

“No, I won’t.”

“Harrow, please. Can you just explain to me what is going on? Why do we have to go to the Banther lodge? What is this ‘incident’ Viren mentioned to Soren? Why are we in here with no guards? Why do they seem to be in higher numbers today? Why do we look like we’re preparing for an attack?” Callum’s breathing was erratic and quick.

“Callum, breathe!” Harrow put his hand on Callum’s shoulder. “Just breathe, deep breaths.” Callum quickly regained his composure.

“I’m fine”. He said. Harrow’s hand remained on his shoulder.

“You know, Marcos?” Harrow asked. Callum nodded. “On his patrol he had a run-in with the Moonshadow elves, assassins to be precise. He miraculously escaped. We believe that the assassins will attack tonight at the full moon…”

“Who are they here for?”Callum interrupted.

“Me”

“Why? You’ve been doing nothing but attempting to maintain peace!”

“That is not exactly true. I’ve done things that are not ‘peaceful’ that I now regret deeply for doing, as well as being short-sighted. It is time I face my judgement.”

“Don’t you want to prevent this war from happening? The elves don’t want to die, humans don’t want to die, so why not just sue for peace?”

“It is not that simple. There were so many transgressions committed by both sides and it runs so deep in our history, people are getting away with changing and falsifying it; projecting their ‘ideas’, their ‘truths’, because it is hard to remember anymore who started it and who has done what. People who are innocent and done nothing wrong are at the centre of these events and they never should’ve been near it. Worst of all some of them are getting blamed by those who are higher than them, nobility, generals, royalty… even the ones with best intentions and a good heart,” Harrow was starting to make less sense to Callum, as he slowly seemed to talk less to him and more to himself. Callum even thought that Harrow was thinking out loud. “I should’ve listened to Him. He saw it all this time, at such an early stage, but no one listened and now He’s not here,” Harrow snapped out of it. “Callum, I know ever since your mother married me, you and I didn’t have the easiest of times connecting together. I want you to know, that nothing in this world matters more to me than you and Ezran.” Callum couldn’t shake off the last goodbye feeling he was getting from this. “I’m simply concerned about your safety and the castle right now isn’t the most safe place. You must go, quickly. I know you will take great care of Ezran.” Harrow pulled Callum into a hug.

Callum was shaken, shocked by what his step-father has said. What made him more distraught was how accepting and calm Harrow seemed of the threat that was upon him, so Callum pressed.

“You sound like there is no way out, are you… not going to be fine?”

“I’m not sure. We will have the best soldiers holding the assassins off, but we do not know how good they will be compared to the elves. In case something does happen,” Harrow pulled away from Callum and reached into his pocket, producing a letter, sealed by the Katolis’s mark. “I want you to open and read this, when… well, you know when.” Callum took the letter and put it into his pocket.

“I won’t have to do that, I’ll see you tomorrow and return this to you.” Callum said. Harrow gave a weak smirk.

“See you.”

* * *

Callum left the throne room, his world shook and his legs gone weak. He leaned against the wall, so that he wouldn’t fall. How could Harrow be so calm? Did Callum even know what he truly did? For the last few years Callum thought Harrow maintained peace with the elves, but Harrow said that he didn’t make the right choices, the very reason the assassins were here. A few mistakes was all that it took for the elves to ignore his intentions?

More questions kept piling up, all without answers, all with details missing. Callum was beginning to feel overwhelmed. He had to do something, he can’t run away and stand by the side while good people, including Harrow, could… be gone.

The elves didn’t know Harrow, but Callum could feel how much he regretted doing whatever he did. That all Harrow wanted was to move forward to a brighter and peaceful future; avoid war, avoid bloodshed and countless lives lost. Callum couldn’t understand why Harrow for all his good intentions had to… die.

Callum straightened his back and marched down the hallway away from his bedroom, unsure of where to go and what to do exactly. He hoped that maybe he would see Soren or Marcos. Harrow must have sent out a search party for the elves and those two should have been a part of it. Just as he thought about it, Soren turned around the corner and was walking towards him. He was carrying a little chest under his right arm. Out of the chest, Callum could hear something whip and flatter.

“Soren! I’m going with you!” Callum walked in front of him.

“What? Where?”

“Aren’t you going to look for the elves?”

“Yeah, me and Marcos are leading the search party.” Soren noticed Callum’s determined eyes. It bothered him, because he wasn’t good at reasoning with people and getting Callum to drop something once he was so determined was difficult. “You’re not coming with us.”

“Why? I want to find these elves and stop them from killing Harrow!”

“Oh yeah, so what? You’re not the only one who wants to stop them! How are you planning to stop them, anyway? Tell me right now!”

“I’ll… fight them alongside you.”

“Where are you going to get a sword and armour? And which ones?”

“I will get the ones from the armoury, the ones we used when we had an artist to paint me and Ezran.”

“Those are ceremonial, they are heavier and not as effective. Besides, you can’t ride a horse.” Soren was getting more impatient, he needed to put this to bed quickly, say something that was going to shut Callum up and get into his senses. Callum was about to say something, but Soren cut him right off:

“You are staying here in the castle, step-prince! You can’t ride a horse and you’re useless as a fighter! You will be a liability, because if we find them then a fight will break out. All you are going to do is get in our way, because you will be a danger to us and yourself! Art won’t help you! And what if you get killed, not only it is not going to help or solve anything, but Harrow will also have my head!” There was a pause, maybe his words seemed to have worked. “You are not going with us!”

Callum was silent. Soren was right, Callum would only hinder the situation and he had to admit it. Callum wouldn’t stand a chance in a fight and dying would solve nothing, only add to the potential body count. But Callum was hurt by the fact that he couldn’t do anything, how useless he was in this situation. There is nothing he could do and doing nothing would only lead to the inevitable. After a brief pause, Soren went around Callum and walked away.

* * *

_What was I thinking? Why did I not send anyone else with her to make sure the job gets done?_ Andromeda saw those thoughts running across Runnan’s blank stare, as he lost his focus inadvertently leaving the task of eyeing for any weak points of the castle entirely on her shoulders. She thought about telling him that it was not his fault, but it wasn’t going to make it easier and she would also probably not be entirely right. Runnan practically raised Rayla, taught her how to be an assassin and insisted that she came on this mission with them, despite the warnings from his husband, Ethari. He probably saw himself in her and felt directly responsible for her actions. Considering she was only fifteen, he probably should’ve expected her to make a lot of mistakes, but in truth she held herself really well until that guard came along. The only scary thing was that her reasoning was rational and it somewhat made sense, even though clearly her hesitation was initially based on impulse. She could only imagine what Runnan was thinking in terms Rayla’s position in the mission, but he needed to be broken out of his trance.

“There is a blind spot, between these two towers, if we climb around this corner,”

Runnan seemed to regain focus. “I see the same.”

“They have been patrolling around the woods all day, we can’t keep using the invisibility spell; one of them is bound to figure it out,” Runnan didn’t respond immediately, clearly focusing on the castle. She wondered if he even heard her, but then again there’s not much choice they had, but to keep using their illusion spells.

“They definitely doubled up on the guards, our chances of coming out of this alive are slim”

“Runnan, I know what you’re thinking. Our chances are better if we act as a whole, this means her as well. We’re more likely to survive with her coming with us, because even though she hesitated, she is still skilful, quick and agile. Probably more than any of us, maybe even more than some of us combined. I know the others doubt her and you care about her a lot, but I have faith in her to pull through.”

“We’re still strong as five.” Runnan said firmly, signalling to her that he had his mind set on this. She reluctantly fell silent. They jumped to the ground, where the others were waiting. Callisto, Skor and Ram were together sharping their swords. Runnan searched for Rayla who was slumped against the tree, some distance away from them. She was also sharping her swords, however she occasionally held long pauses either looking at her hand… no… her bindings or she was looking at her reflection in the swords, giving not a particularly pleased look.

Runnan whispered to Andromeda. “ _Go with the others to the first rendezvous point, I’ll catch up.”_

Andromeda signalled to others to follow her; everyone got up. Rayla hurried on to catch up with the group only to be stopped by Runnan, as he firmly grasped her hand. He pointed in the opposite direction and told Rayla to follow him. As they went past the first set of bushes, there was a secluded little clearing with a tree stump in the middle of it, Runnan broke the silence:

“You know Rayla, Ethari told me that you were too goodhearted for an assassin. I only now realise how true his words were. I hoped your speed and agility would get you through this, but your heart is not set. This is why you’ll be staying here.”

“What?! No! I can do this, I won’t fail this time! This time justice will be served for the King’s transgressions! I’ve bounded myself, my heart for Xa…” Runnan put his hands on her shoulders forcing her to sit down on the tree stump.

“You will remain here, so that our mission goes smoothly, with the people who have their heart set on this and not questioning themselves, deciding what’s right or wrong. An assassin does not decide right or wrong, only life or death.” Rayla listened gravely and did not resist. “You will be unbound when it is done. If we do not return by sunrise, go home.” Runnan turned around and was about to leave, but Rayla spoke once more.

“So that I end up just like my parents?” Her voice trembled a bit.

Runnan stopped dead in his tracks. _At least you’ll be alive._ He thought, but he did not say it.

After a slight pause he carried on walking, leaving Rayla on her own… again. She was about to sit out, in other words, fail to do her duty, just like her parents failed to do theirs. She was distraught, deflated and demoralised – she came here to rectify the failures of her parents, not repeat them. She looked at the castle that was visible from the stump.

 _Wait! Is that a blind spot between the two towers around the corner there?_ She thought to herself. She unsheathed her swords and rotated the blades to produce picks, she looked at them, then back to the wall. _They should do alright._ She shot up, sheathing her swords back.

 _I can fix this!_ And with the new found determination in her eyes she ran towards the castle.

* * *

The castle library was unusually empty today; the two librarians were nowhere to be seen. Stacks upon stacks of books were neatly placed on the desks at the library’s entrance, probably given back after being read. Finding a book in this place would be a nightmare – the bookcases were so tightly packed together that a person would have trouble fitting between them and turning would be impossible, unless you exit out of the other side. The bookcases were also so tall that a second floor was added so that the top of these cases can be reached. But the most ridiculous part was the middle, ‘no man’s land’ part between the two floors. A normal human did not have the height nor the arm’s length to reach for the books, so a ladder was placed on both sides of a bookcase and the shelves were made at an incline. So in order to get a book you would have to climb a ladder, take a book at the end, let the next one slide down and repeat the process until you either found the book or ran out of the books on the shelf. To place them back you would have to go to the opposite side and place them on the shelf, letting them slide down the shelf.

Callum hated the system, it was inefficient and frankly an unnecessary chore. This library was so ridiculous that he almost compared it to a circus. Ironically the two librarians were also twins. He questioned how they even kept track of what they had and where it was located in the library. How come the ‘brain’ of the entire kingdom was run in such a hectic and ineffective fashion? Why did no one bother to change it? Was everything so rigid in Katolis, that such audacity existed and no one saw or understood the ridiculousness of this system?

He was irritated and not in the mood for climbing ladders and sliding books. Thankfully for him ‘The secrets of Xadia’ was one of the most prized possessions and the pride of the library. It was located on a separate pedestal at the centre of the library. Callum stormed towards it and tried to quickly grab it, but he did not anticipate how heavy it was going to be. The book dropped down to the floor with a heavy thud and opened. Thankfully the twin librarians were nowhere near to hear the book hit the floor, otherwise he would’ve been executed on the spot. His frustrations began to get the better of him, as he almost wanted to kick the book away, as though the book had done something wrong.

 _Breathe!_ He thought to himself, screamed even. He couldn’t lose control, it simply was not going to do any good.

He tried to frantically search on the page for any mentions of Moonshadow Elves. Suddenly the page flipped. On its own. Then two. Quicker. Then a few more in a row. Callum was shocked and scared, what kind of ghostly occurrence was this?

“Self-flipping books. Great! Add another one to the list of ridiculous things I hate about this library, alongside the twins and the bookshelves,”his thoughts were interrupted by a quiet laugh.

“You should’ve seen your face!” Claudia emerged from behind one of the bookshelves. Callum panicked, he couldn’t show her that he was unhappy. That would lead to loads of questions, which were going to eat up the time he didn’t have.

“How did you do that?” He tried to play coolly.

“With this!” She presented an orb, which had thunderclouds inside it, with occasional lightning striking inside it.

“What is that?”

“That is a primal stone. It allows for mages to do magic without having the source. In this case it is the Sky Primal Stone. It has a real thunderstorm trapped within it, captured at the top of Mount Kalik. And to answer your question of how I did: I’m going to show you exactly how.” She drew a symbol in the air that produced light where her index finger travelled. Callum’s photographic memory immediately took note of what she drew. She took a deep breath. “ _Aspiro_!” And gently blew in the direction of Callum’s face. He could feel a gentle wind brushing against his skin and past his messy hair. He could smell Claudia’s breath. It smelled of peanut butter, which was her favourite topping on a sandwich… and a hint of jelly tarts.

 _Ezran!_ He loved those things and must have given some to Claudia. That meant he should have been back in his room.

“That’s very cool, hey Claudia…” he wanted to tell someone, just vent it all out; get this unbearable weight off his chest. In fact he also really wanted to stay and talk to Claudia and this was the perfect excuse to do just that… but he needed to see Ezran and quickly depart for the Banther lodge. “I really need to go and see Ezran, it’s really urgent. I’ll explain everything later.” Callum didn’t wait for the reply, as he quickly picked up the book and almost ran towards the library’s exit. Claudia was left confused and concerned. It had to be something related with the Moonshadow assassins, hence the book he picked up.

“Did Soren say something mean again?” She thought.

“Sister, was it me or did I hear a book drop?”

Claudia gasped. “Blasted librarians, they were in the courtyard when I went here, how did they hear it?” She quickly hid behind a bookshelf.

* * *

Callum stormed towards his and his step-brother’s bedrooms. Each step louder in his ears and hallway, as he became more and more irritated and angry. He was angry at himself, at his step-father, Claudia, Soren, everyone at this rate.

 _Breathe!_ He told himself. He couldn’t snap in front of his brother; he needed to look out for him. _At least do this right, since you can’t do anything else useful!_ He told himself.

As he expected Ezran was in his bedroom, playing with Bait, instead of packing his things up, of course. His electric blue eyes, so full of innocence and youth, glanced at Callum. His wide smile plastered across his face that could never have contained the excitement of seeing his brother.

“Hi, Callum, finally you’re done with training.” The little kid grabbed Bait and rushed towards him exuding energy and excitement, the corner of his mouth was slightly smothered in jelly.

“Yes I am.” Callum responded rather blandly, trying to mask his internal feelings. “We need to pack up, we…”

“Oh, dad told me about the Banther Lodge already. It’s sure isn’t winter, but at least we get to do something fun.” Callum felt at ease for a moment. Ezran was notoriously slow at packing things, usually deciding which two unimportant things should have been taken, more often than not settling with taking both of them, or pondering which shirt he should have taken, often feeling bad for leaving one of the shirts behind. He was mentally preparing to deal with his usual slowness, but since he didn’t have to, they would be away from danger in no time, yet he asked:

“Have you packed up?”

“No, not yet, I’m only half way there,”Callum’s frustrations came back to him just as quickly as they left. For a split moment, he thought that Ezran had already packed up, meaning he didn’t lose much time when he searched for the book at the library. He turned away towards his backpack to start packing up, in reality he tried to hide the frustration slowly creeping across his face. “Why does everything have to happen now? Why does every bad habit feel so exaggerated? Why? Why? Why?,”he shoved the book he got from the library and Harrow’s letter into his backpack. His breathing was slowly speeding up. In. Out… In…

“Callum, I had another dream tonight…”

“That’s great, Ezran.” He said quite firmly cutting him off. In. Out. In. Out… In… Out…

“And we stole Jelly tarts again…”

“Could you please pack up?” His voice was slightly raised. Ezran’s smile dissolved away... In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.

“Callum, what’s wrong?” IN. OUT. IN. OUT. IN. OUT. IN.

“What’s wrong?!” He turned to finally face Ezran. “You,” he pointed at Ezran. “Not packing up, having fun!” Callum was almost screaming causing Ezran’s locks to wave. “Don’t you realise how serious this is?! This is beyond serious and you are out here having a laugh! We are in mortal danger! Your father may die, killed by Moonshadow Assassins that are out there in the woods somewhere! Do you not even care in the slightest?” Callum regretted his words almost immediately when he stopped shouting.

Ezran’s eyes began to tear up, not knowing what he did wrong to get Callum’s reaction. Callum was mortified, embarrassed and ashamed of himself; he just shouted at his eight year old brother, who did nothing wrong to deserve this. Callum’s eyes widened, as his hand went across his mouth. He was horrified, wondering if he was any better than Soren right now.

“Oh Ezran, I’m so… so… sorry,” but Ezran ran away into his bedroom, locking the door behind him. “Ezran please, I’m sorry, we need to…” but deep down Callum knew he deserved it and that Ezran wasn’t going to open the door any time soon. He was left to linger with the thoughts of failing to look after his brother; he managed to fail spectacularly within seconds. He slumped his back against the door, silent and defeated.

 _Why can’t I do anything right?_ He waited for a minute, five, ten, thirty... it was quiet. Callum thought Ezran was sobbing into his pillow. “Ezran, please come out, I’m so sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it. I had a really bad few hours and I let it get to me. You deserve so much better, please give me another chance…”

Still.

“What was your dream about tonight?”

Still silence.

“How did the Jelly Tart heist go? I saw a bit of jelly on your mouth and I smelled it on Claudia.”

Still silence stuck.

It was too quiet, Callum remembered about the little door that was made for Bait, the Bait flap. He peaked through it into his brother’s bedroom, it was small and cosy. There were some clothes that Ezran hasn’t put away yet, neatly put to the side. They were exquisite and luxurious, made of the greatest quality with vibrant colours and intricate patterns that populated across the sleeves and collars. Ezran however always preferred the more simple and calm designs, that weren’t as eye-catching. Even in official events he rarely wore them, preferring to wear similar colours to his father, namely the crimson red. On the wall opposite the bed were some of the drawings that Callum gave to Ezran, it mostly involved them and Bait. Speaking of Ezran and Bait, Callum struggled to see any signs of him, unless he was hidden behind the bed:

“Ezran, please, we need to hurry… are you there?” Nothing. He was gone. Callum began to panic. He couldn’t begin to fathom how exactly he disappeared from a locked room, all he thought about was that Ezran was gone and the danger was imminent. That it was his fault that Ezran ran away and he needed to find him. Callum rushed out of the bedroom and began to search the castle halls.

* * *

A lean and lone figure roamed the castle’s hallway, he definitely looked like royalty. Ocean blue jacket, that covered what looked like a maroon red shirt with golden edges. He had a book connected to straps that were slung over his shoulder. Black trousers tucked into brown boots, an… interesting choice. A red scarf that had the longer ends on his back, with golden lines on it… also an interesting aesthetic design choice. That, combined with dark brown gloves he was wearing made it a very weird choice… especially indoors.

 _But at least the gloves didn’t fully cover his fingers and they look rather thin, so… not… so… weird, eh?_ Rayla thought to herself. _His hair is a bit messy though. An interesting human being… different, not like the others I’ve seen and definitely not like the humans Runnan made them out to be._ She slowly snuck up towards him and was almost within touching distance. _Ok, now what? How am I going to do this? Maybe I should…_ she realised too late that they were next to a grand window and the massive curtains weren’t covering it; he saw her shadow.

“You know you can’t really sneak up on me Ez…” Callum turned around, but he was in for a brutal surprise. “Oh… you’re not who I was expecting.”

She was slightly taller than him and wore teal and black clothing, underneath a sleeveless jet-black jacket. Her hood was up, but Callum could still make out her violet eyes and pure white hair. She was wearing such high boots that they covered her knees. She had a belt on her waist with the circular buckle resembling the moon in its different stages. Her clothing was fairly tight, highlighting her athleticism that helped her scale the cliffs and the walls of the castle within the last hour. With every detail Callum’s eyes took in, he became more scared. It was an assassin… they were already here and Ezran was still missing. “You’re one of those, the ones we got told about, the ones with the pointy…”

“Ah, you don’t like my ears?” Rayla looked calm and composed, she seemed to be enjoying watching fear, panic and nervousness slowly overtake Callum.

“What? No! I mean… I’ve never seen an elf before… you have pointy ears? That’s cool! I can’t really see underneath your hood,” he gave out a nervous laugh, Rayla’s face began to drift from amusement to impatience. “No, I was talking about your pointy…,”Rayla slid the swords out from behind her back. “…swords…,”without a weapon Callum had no chance and he didn’t think he could outrun her, unless…“Huh, I was going to say horns. You sure specialise in pointy things.”

“Enough, I’m looking for Prince Ezran and you’re going to tell me where he is!”

“Have you checked behind there?” Callum pointed towards a door down the hallway behind Rayla and the window, not hearing whose name she just said. Callum doubted it was going to work, the oldest trick in a child’s book - a misdirection by pointing. However, to Callum’s surprise, Rayla looked behind her, perhaps elven children weren’t taught that trick. He grabbed the curtains and pulled them down on an unsuspecting Rayla. The curtain was large and a little heavy, which should buy him time. Callum sprinted away as fast as he could.

 _If you weren’t good at sword fighting, why couldn’t you learn how to quickly run away?_ He thought to himself. He felt like he never ran so quickly in his life before, almost tripping over his legs, yet he felt slow… like it wasn’t enough. _Do not look behind you! Do not look behind! Do not look! Do not!_ He glanced. _What did I say! Why did I look? I shouldn’t have! How is she running on the wall?! Where are all of the guards?_

Callum’s distraction did not take into account, that Rayla had swords. Having split the curtains open, after struggling for a bit, she was chasing Callum, occasionally jumping from the floor to the wall and back again. She was gaining on him. Callum ran shoulder first into the door and it swung open with a heavy thud, drawing the attention of two guards who were in the room.

“Help me! She is chasing me!” Callum said running past them, still not daring to stop. He made it for the door that led to a set of spiral stairs leading to what Callum thought was a scribe’s room, Lord Viren would occasionally work there. He looked behind him, hoping the guards would stop her. The room was a dead end and if no one was there, then he would be dead.

He saw that his pursuer did not slow down and was running directly at the guards, they both drew and swung their swords… then in a combatting move of jaw-dropping beauty, boldness and flair that Callum could only ever imagine seeing, the elf slid on her knees between the two guards, switching her blades to picks, hooking their legs as she slid past them. Both guards fell face first into the floor, knocked out cold. Without a pause Rayla used her momentum to smoothly get up from her knees and to continue chasing Callum.

 _Wow, did she just sweep the leg?_ Callum would have surely complimented her on that, if only he wasn’t in a life or death situation. Only a handful of steps separated Callum and Rayla.

Final few steps… there was the door, the moment of truth. Callum was reaching out for the door, but felt a powerful shove from behind, that flung him into the door, swinging it open. He collapsed to the floor and, as he dreaded, no one was in the room other than him and the elf. He turned to face her, crawling away until he hit the table, there was no where he could run, no one to save. This was it.

“Hey, you swept the leg! That was quite cool”

“What?” The elf looked dumbstruck, those were not the words she was expecting to hear.

“No, nothing, never mind.” Callum tried to ease the tension of his impending doom, at least for himself. Was that how Harrow felt earlier?

“Thank you, I guess.” She said more out of courtesy than appreciation. “But I’m done playing games. Next time you might want to carry a sword around and not rely on your running, so you’re not useless in combat.”

“I know, I hear that quite often and in more ways than you’re implying there.” Callum sounded defeated as moments of his training flashed up in front of him. Oh, how much he’d give right now to have learnt better, to have tried harder. And now Ezran is going to be alone, if his father would die as well, he failed him and there was no chance at redemption for him anymore. All because he was too useless with a sword, too useless at looking out for his brother, too useless at keeping his feelings and emotions under control… the list could go on.

 _Oh no, not again, he is doing the thing with eyes._ Rayla thought to herself. She saw that look before when she failed to take someone’s life. She saw so many emotions in those eyes before the anticipated inevitability: fear, regret, dwindling hope, memories, the things that would never come… and was there… a hint of acceptance? Rayla forced herself to sound firm:

“You don’t have to die, there are only two targets for tonight.”

“Wait? Two targets?”

“Yes, I’ve already mentioned one to you, the other one is obviously King Harrow.”

“You did? I don’t remember.” Callum said quickly. Rayla sighed.

“Prince Ezran and King Harrow.” Callum’s heart dropped after hearing that. They were going to kill Ezran, as well?

“Why? Why kill a person who has done nothing wrong? This is messed up and so, so wrong!”

“An assassin doesn’t decide right or wrong, only life and death. Your king killed The Dragon King and then cut down his egg. His son that was never even born, destroyed without a second thought. Justice will not be denied!” Callum could see that he couldn’t sway her in any way, she was determined. Callum thought to himself. “Is that how people felt when I was dead set on something?”

“So I’m going to ask you again and this time you’re going to spill me the answer and not run away. Where is Prince Ezran?”

This wasn’t fair justice. The kid, Ezran, did nothing wrong to deserve any of this; he couldn’t let his brother die. Right there and then, Callum saw an opportunity he thought he wasn’t going to get – a chance to redeem himself for what he did to Ezran. A moment to finally not be useless. Callum took a deep breath, about to be one of his last ones, and proclaimed.

“Well… you’ve got him. It’s me. I am Prince Ezran.”


	3. Good Intentions?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fateful night was upon them: Ezran was missing, Viren was up against a stubborn Harrow who braced himself for an inevitable attack and Callum was held at sword point by Rayla. Despite the direness of the situation, somewhere a chance was presented, that blurred the 'right' path. Who would take it? In any case, the night was going to be remembered for good and bad things.

It was getting dark. The search party has failed to find the assassins, the attack was imminent and inevitable. Harrow was in his chambers, his entrance closely and heavily guarded by a dozen guards, the best Katolis had to offer. Soren was among the last line of defence, located right in front of that door.

Harrow wore his suit of armour, the best he had. They were well polished, practically shining. He sat in front of his desk where he would occasionally write his letters, the latest one being the one he gave to Callum. It was quiet, in fact so quiet that Harrow’s thoughts that he was left lingering with seemed loud. He was familiar with this calmness, this stillness… the usual before a thunderstorm.

He talked to both Callum and Ezran, practically a last goodbye in disguise. Ezran didn’t sense it, but Callum certainly did. Even though he and Callum still felt slightly distant towards each other, Callum didn’t particularly take well to the idea of Harrow’s death. However Harrow couldn’t deny that Callum loved Ezran. He felt much closer to him and he would do anything for him. It made Harrow at peace knowing that Ezran would be left in capable hands, surrounded by great people and most importantly supported by his step-brother, who acted just like a brother to him. Ezran in fact looked up to Callum and Harrow was only happier for it, as he thought that Callum was a great role-model, the best Ezran could ask for.

There was one more person Harrow didn’t talk to. He got up and turned around, looking at the painting of his deceased wife and a mother to Callum and Ezran, Sarai. There she was forever young and beautiful. Her pose seethed energy and boldness that fuelled her competitive nature.

“Hi, my dear,” Harrow spoke quietly. Her piercing brown eyes spoke volumes to Harrow, with that look she used to tease him just like she is now, beckoning to join her. “Soon, darling, I probably will.” Yet in her eyes he could read more than just her playful tease. He could see her power, her stubbornness.

Before High Mage Viren, she was his closest advisor; they would have many debates and arguments over certain decisions, with Harrow caving in occasionally. However, no matter what, they always supported each other, even when they didn’t agree.

“I should’ve listened to you, I regret that I didn’t.” The last time Harrow went along with his decision, Sarai sacrificed her life for the mission. The two kingdoms were better off after the mission’s success, but Harrow felt somewhat regretful and sorrowful, which brewed for many years. “I was short sighted and driven by anger, which formed my lust for revenge. I’m sorry you had to see me like this and endure that.” She warned him that Dark Magic was a shortcut, and killing Avizandum, or Thunder as humans normally called the Dragon King, was the last straw for Xadia. He was now forced to pay for the shortcuts he took, the shortcuts Viren had provided.

“And now they’re coming for me… we all know it. You know how? Marcos. He spotted them whilst patrolling last night. He miraculously escaped, in fact he was let go. He only told me about it, but the elf didn’t kill him, although she had the chance. She spared him… she couldn’t do it.” Harrow hated to admit it, but in that moment that elf acted and was more ‘human’ than some people Harrow met in his lifetime. “We were always told that elves are vile creatures, bloodthirsty monsters who are ruthless and will not hesitate to kill anyone, be it a child, a woman or an old man. Yet that sign of mercy, just proves that He was right all this time – humans and elves may both be fallible, but we can also produce the greatest feats of kindness, humility and bravery… that we may not be so different, as probably we both make it out to be. People laughed at those remarks. They told Him that He got hit in the head too many times during training and was being delusional… and now He is not here, probably better off as a result.” Harrow was not infuriated when he found that He disappeared. On the other hand, His remaining family were a little torn and perplexed, unsure of whether to hide or worse, try their best to distance themselves from Him. After all, many nobility and rulers were mad and seething with anger, proclaiming that He ran away and was a traitor to all humankind. Luckily, the ordinary folk were not so easily swayed, especially when many people began to claim that He defended them from bandits, not asking for anything in return. He did it simply out of the kindness of His heart, a vigilante of sorts.

Harrow respected Him and would even feel honoured to be called His friend, but He was always pulled away for constant training. He was forced to listen to constant lectures from leaders, generals, nobles and sometimes even rulers, about what to do and how the humans were better than elves, the things all people got told, including Harrow, from an early age.

“Only now I realise the slightest idea of what He saw, oh so early on. Earlier than I did and ever could – the wrong and perhaps evil ways of our history and the horrible future we wanted to build, ourselves not realising how wrong it is. He escaped just in time, but I fell victim to it, repeating our mistakes I swore to avoid, when I became King of Katolis nine years ago. I wanted to make a change, lead Katolis to a better and more peaceful world… but what am I going to be remembered for? That I killed Thunder and brought the world closer to war or a servant King who served his people to make their lives better? Who will even bother asking for my intentions? My choices mislead me and their end result is what people are going to judge me for. All I hope is that our sons learn from it and be better than we ever could… or got the chance to. Perhaps He will return and help them; He is a good man and can lead humanity to peaceful coexistence within Xadia. A daunting task, that probably won’t be achieved in his lifetime, but He sure, as the day is bright, is going to try. It’s not in His nature to stop, especially if He wants it. I’ll feel sorry for anyone who dares to stand in His way… but then again, should I, if they are so foolish to do so?”

Harrow’s thoughts were interrupted when he heard voices outside his door. He wasn’t sure about the other one, but the first voice was clearly Viren’s, the other one he assumed might have been Soren’s. In any case, he couldn’t make out what they said. He expected that Viren was also going to pay him a visit, one last time.

Harrow smirked. “Well, I guess my huge rant is over, Sarai. High Mage Viren would like to talk to me, perhaps say his goodbyes. I promise to you that I will face my threat with honour and bravery. You and our children will be in my thoughts, supporting me. It’s in our marriage vows, you keeping me alive when I act like a brave idiot… like you said before our last ever mission.” Harrow closed his eyes picturing the moment she said those words. He was slowly tearing up, but managed to hold back well. There was a knock and the sound of the door being slowly opened. It was Lord Viren.

“Harrow, may I?”

* * *

Before visiting Harrow, Viren approached Soren.

“They’ve infiltrated the castle, we’ve had two guards down!” Viren took Soren to the side away from other guards.

“Right, what should we do?”

“For now, we’ll go along with the King’s wishes.” Viren lowered his voice.

“Yes, we will protect him,” Soren said innocently and confidently. He noticed Viren’s gaze, it was almost blank. There was a little pause, as Viren clearly pondered something. “Dad? Do you not believe in us?” Soren almost wanted to ask if he didn’t believe in him?

“I’m afraid, we don’t stand a chance without Him.” Viren stated calmly. Soren clearly felt hurt by that statement, almost insulted, repulsed even. Did his dad really think that He was better than him?

“Well, He is not here. We’ve got the best guards, but most importantly I am here. We will stop them!”

Viren knew how unfounded were Soren’s claims and wasn’t sure whether Soren believing in them was a good thing. There was another pause.

“Dad, what are you thinking?” Soren pressed. Viren was so deep in his thoughts, it was almost like he wasn’t even there. Soren felt like Viren looked through him as he failed to notice him, even though he stood right in front of him. Then, Viren’s eyes livened up, as an idea crossed his mind. He entertained it and he finally broke the silence.

“I’m just thinking of the kingdom. When,” he quickly stopped himself and looked around, before shifting his tone to a more quiet and concerned one. “If the King dies, we will have to mourn for seven days as per tradition. In any case we will be left vulnerable and the Sunfire elves could attack us at the border. Prince Ezran is too weak to rule. The kingdom will be weak. I’m just… concerned for the people.”

“The King won’t die because I won’t allow it.” There was a hint of arrogance in Soren’s statement. “It’s my duty anyway to protect him. Besides, we can always support Ezran.”

Viren sighed, sounding almost dismissive and exasperated. Soren didn’t notice it. “I must talk to Harrow, get him into his senses. Katolis must remain strong.”

“It will.” Soren insisted. Viren quickly turned ignoring what Soren said, who yet again was oblivious in the moment as he clearly focused solely on himself.

Soren moved back to his position by the door, his mind laser-focused on fulfilling his duty, but Soren was set on proving his dad’s statement wrong, as perhaps something more than usual was on the line as well. Soren could prove after all this time that he was better than Him and that He wasn’t needed at all. Soren began to prepare himself for the upcoming battle, as Viren knocked on the door.

* * *

“I am sorry, but I have to do this.” Rayla’s sword was pointing at Callum’s neck.

“You don’t have to do anything. You can choose not to do this.” Callum was certainly hoping that maybe he could talk his way out of this.

“Yes we do. We made our choice long ago, precisely when you attacked and killed Avizandum and destroyed the egg of the Dragon Prince.”

“So if attacking and killing someone is so bad, then how is this any different?”

“Humans have attacked unprovoked, we are attacking provoked.”

“Then it becomes a cycle, someone will avenge my and King Harrow’s deaths and attack and kill your loved ones. You won’t let go and avenge their deaths, continuing this endless cycle of death and destruction. It has to stop, one of us needs to find a different way!”

Callum also pondered. _What did she really know? What if the attack wasn’t provoked and she has no idea of the full picture?_ He wasn’t sure he knew himself and was hesitant to mention that as a result.

“Ugh, you talk too much,” she quickly picked up that he was trying to buy time, if not talking her out of doing the right thing – executing him. She did however commend his bravery in telling her his name, an honourable man, despite less than intimidating build and his young age. Then again, Rayla was only fifteen herself and wouldn’t be surprised if he was the same, if not slightly younger.

It was such a shame that the first human she talked to, albeit in not the best circumstances, that was different and intriguing, had to die. He wasn’t cowering or begging; he was facing her straight on. It didn’t make it easier on her, as she was mustering courage and strength to finally do the deed. She knew that she would do it this time, no hesitation… just not lightly. What made it worse, was that she somewhat admired his courage in his last few moments. She wasn’t expecting to face Moonshadow-elf-like courage, from a human no less! He almost showed no fear, but his green eyes gave him away. She wondered. _What would he be like if he was born an elf?_

Callum recognised in her violet eyes that she was not particularly ready to kill him, that she was slightly hesitant. He was greatly surprised by that, as he thought Moonshadow assassins, and all elves in general, were supposed to be ruthless, according to nearly every human he knew. He heard many ugly stories from the skirmishes that were still happening and the war that marred the history between the two races. Despite all of that, Callum could read in Rayla’s eyes a simple humane quality of empathy. He almost couldn’t believe that elves can be goodhearted, but the one standing in front of him certainly wasn’t cold, evil and ruthless, as humans made them out to be.

The momentary silence, that felt longer for both of them, was broken by a familiar voice, a whisper. “Psst, Callum,” it was Ezran’s voice. Callum was confused, he thought that there was no one else in the room. Judging by how Rayla’s eyes widened, Callum figured out that she also heard it and that he wasn’t imagining it. Without moving his head, he glanced to where Ezran’s voice came from. There was nothing to his right, apart from a large painting of a young girl holding a sheep. Then it dawned on Callum, Ezran mentioned to him that there were a couple of secret passages in the castle. He didn’t take him seriously at the time and doubted the existence of said passages, but this must have been one of them! He figured out that Ezran must have had a secret passage in the bedroom which is how he left unnoticed, although questioned the reason for its existence in his brother’s bedroom. It was the only possible explanation.

“Go away!” He said somewhat firmly, looking at Rayla, but it didn’t convince her as he said it unnaturally quietly. It clearly wasn’t addressed to her. His eyes gave it away again, as he quickly glanced at a painting to her left.

“Are you talking to that painting?” She spoke more as a matter of fact, rather than an inquiry.

“No! What? Pffft… Why would I? I mean… considering the situation, talking to paintings… right now wouldn’t be a good moment.” Callum said the last bit louder so that Ezran could hear.

“Right, is that because you’re with a girl?” Ezran jabbed.

Callum resisted with every ounce of his body from hitting himself. Ezran wasn’t wrong in his statement, but this wasn’t your everyday average girl. _I was right earlier on, he doesn’t realise how serious this is_. Callum thought to himself rather sarcastically.

Rayla moved towards the painting, still keeping one of her swords pointing towards Callum. She grabbed the edge of the frame and pulled it. Unsurprisingly it swung open and Ezran’s small figure was revealed from behind it, with Bait at his feet looking grumpy as ever. Ezran was eating a jelly tart, his hands smothered in its jelly. He certainly wasn’t expecting to see an elf.

“Eeeh, jelly tart?” He extended his arm towards Rayla offering the said half-eaten jelly tart. Callum quickly got up.

“Kid, get out of here!” He commanded. Ezran was understandably confused, not by the command, but by the fact he called him ‘kid’.

“Callum, what’s going on here?”

“Callum?” Rayla turned to him. “I thought you were Prince Ezran. You lied to me!”

“Ok, how is that worse than killing someone?” Callum rebutted.

“Oh, you’re looking for me? I’m Prince Ezran.”

Callum was lost, he had no idea how to get out of this situation. The fact that Ezran gave himself away made Callum want to strangle Ezran and assassinate him himself.

“You’re Prince Ezran?” Rayla’s back hunched. Ezran nodded. _A kid?_ Rayla thought. _This is even worse than the last two times I tried to kill someone!_

Ezran kneeled and picked up Bait and extended him towards Rayla. Callum immediately recognised what Ezran was trying to do.

“Have you met my friend, Bait?” Ezran asked and as he said that, Callum covered his eyes. Just like Ezran and Callum trained him, Bait began to glow brighter and brighter until he flashed. Rayla dropped both of her swords as she covered her eyes. The flashing was a self-defence mechanism that glowtoads used when they were in danger, because their body was so big and their paws were so small, meaning they were quite slow both in water and on land. This allowed them to blind their hunter and buy enough time to escape or hide. In this case, Bait was buying time for the princes. Callum ran towards Ezran closing the entrance behind him. He was about to tell Ezran to run, but his little brother spoke first.

“Follow me, I found something.” He said as he ran ahead of him.

* * *

“No, not that way, Callum!”

“Why no…” A massive thud followed; Callum ran into a wall.

“That’s why! Just trust me, I’ve discovered these underground halls a few months ago. I know them very well.”

Callum finally caught up with Ezran, holding his nose. He was overwhelmed by everything. This whole entire secret passage looked like a maze, with dead ends, which Callum’s nose could testify. The entire passage was made out of stone. It was fairly dimly lit by sky blue crystals that were located in the walls. Ezran led the way confidently.

“How did you find this place?”

“Accidently. I stumbled into a secret door in my bedroom. This way.” Ezran turned around the corner. Callum wondered what was the point of this secret passage. Why would someone need to keep a secret maze within the Katolis castle, which was considered one of the most impenetrable in the human lands? Clearly it wasn’t built as a means of escape, which was why Callum doubted Ezran the one time he mentioned about the secret passage. If it was built like a maze, then clearly it was to keep something secret; to hide something. Who would keep and build this maze? Did Harrow know about it? Who did?

Callum’s brain couldn’t keep up with all this new information, his breathing was speeding up. He had to calm himself down, take it one at time. “Have you told anyone about this, Ez?”

“No.” They came to a dead end. “Wait there, I need to do something.”

“Ezran, I thought you knew the way, we’re at a dead end, that thankfully hasn’t had a meeting with my nose!”

“Just… wait!” Ezran got close to the wall in front of him. Unlike the walls and floor that the boys were surrounded with, this specific wall had stones that weren’t laid in uniform sizes. If every other stone was rectangular, then the stones in front of Ezran were more circular and varied in size. Callum noticed that the floor patterns that Ezran was standing on formed a large circle and within it, straight lines that were converging towards a much smaller circle in the middle. Was there another passage underneath?

Ezran stood and pushed the stones in front of him in a specific order, muttering under his breath. “Stone, rock, stone, rock….” It echoed slightly, which is how Callum acknowledged it.

“Wait… what’s the difference between stone and rock?”

“Size… ugh, Callum, I lost track. I have to restart. Can you please wait? Stone, rock, stone,” Callum was getting nervous. Could he hear footsteps?

 _Click!_ The floor beneath Ezran began to move, sinking into a room beneath them, creating a spiral staircase. Callum quickly jumped in after him. Ezran straight away went towards the bookcase and pulled one book half way out. The staircase retracted immediately.

There was a moment of silence. Did they finally lose her? There were footsteps above where they were moments ago.

“Are you sure she can’t follow us here?” Callum whispered.

“No way, it took me months to figure out that code.” Ezran whispered back optimistically. His optimism however quickly dwindled when the staircase began to lower down, as a very smug Rayla descended, clearly fuelled by the irony of Ezran’s words.

“What? How?” Ezran was stunned. All of his hard work and months he spent figuring out the code and the right way towards the ‘secret, secret’ entrance and an elf came in and figured it out on her very first try. He was simultaneously in awe and absolutely annoyed.

“Hate to disappoint you, kid.” She began mockingly, then transitioned into a more triumphant tone. “The stones don’t need to be pressed in any specific order. Either that or I got very lucky on my first try.” She then continued to sound as smug as she looked, teasing them both. “You know for a closed space the echo sure is very present. The talking this time worked against you Callum, I was able to pinpoint your location and follow you. As for the right stones to press, I just pressed the ones with jelly handprints on them.”

Ezran was irritated with himself, especially with the jelly tart part. He slapped himself across the face leaving a jelly handprint in its wake.

Rayla got off the staircase and began to look around the room. Callum also took the chance to process his surroundings. Callum didn’t realise how creepy the room was. The room was fairly narrow, deep, dark and damp. There were a couple of desks, that were clearly used fairly often, judging by the numerous marks that were on them. The desk closest to the entrance, had a set of chains next to an unlit candle and a key, that probably unlocked a set of shackles hanging on a ceiling above it. Underneath the desk were dried droplets of a dark coloured liquid. Aside from the books, the bookcases were also filled with jars. There was only one next to the entrance filled with dark red powder.

At the beginning the bookcases mostly had books, but the further they got away from the entrance the more numerous the jars became. Some of them were empty, some had liquids of questionable colour, some were filled with plants and insects and some were filled with small animal corpses like rats, mice and squirrels.

At the end of the room bones and animal skeletons were also scattered on the book shelfs and the desks. Was this a torture chamber, a prison? Did some vile experiments take place here? Why was this even here and most importantly who was behind all of this? Callum was horrified by what he saw, but it was nothing compared to the mortified look that Rayla was giving. This was perhaps the first time that Callum saw Rayla lose her focus and composure. She clearly despised this place, as her face shifted to an angry and furious expression. This was something that clearly and deeply insulted her, perhaps showing to her the worst of humanity… and the boys were right in front of her in the same room as her. Nowhere to hide, nowhere to run.

Rayla didn’t want to believe everything she got told about the humans. That they were greedy, materialistic, selfish, ruthless and most importantly pure evil. She hoped that despite their creation of Dark Magic that humans were only misguided and lost. That their intentions were kind, but some of their goodwill were numbed through war. However the grim picture before her brutally demolished any kind of naïve and innocent hope she had in that moment. Forcing her to reinstate what other elves always told her.  
“Runnan was right,” she said, her voice sounding bitter and remorseful, with a hint of agony. “There is nothing worth saving in humans.” She raised one of her swords and pointed it towards the princes. She slowly and menacingly walked towards them, as they moved deeper into the room. “Justice won’t be denied, Prince Ezran must be assassinated!”

“You will have to get through me first, you’ll kill him only over my dead body!” Callum stepped in front of Ezran, stretching and waving his hand for Ezran to stay behind him.

“I can arrange that! You will be dead too in that case!” Rayla stated coldly.

“Let’s not do that.” Ezran stepped to the side from behind Callum’s back. “Please, you need to see something!”

“Oh no, I’m not falling for that flashing frog trick again!” Rayla pointed her sword at Bait, who grumbled and his glowing colours changed from his normal yellow to slightly redder, reflecting his current mood and emotion – irritation and annoyance in this case.

“He is a glow toad!” Ezran corrected her pedantically, clearly not the first time he had to use that line. Bait’s grumpiness could not be more obvious, as Rayla wondered if this creature was judging her harshly and condescendingly, considering the disapproving look he was giving. “I beg you,” Ezran continued. “I think it needs help, it wants its mother!” Rayla understandably looked confused.

“Ezran, right now is not really the greatest moment to pretend to be able to talk to animals,” Callum said firmly, thinking he was talking about Bait. What else could Ezran have been talking about? Callum noticed that Ezran ignored his last remark and looked at him. Ezran was pointing to a corner in the room, it was then that Callum noticed that something was glowing in that corner.

The source was located on a stand, under a blanket, right next to a door. Ezran knew that it led into another set of corridors, just like the ones that led them here and if things went south, they weren’t trapped. Rayla hesitated for a while, since the last two times she got stalled, she was tricked, but to Callum’s surprise Rayla went along with Ezran’s plea.

“Fine, you take it off, slowly. I don’t want any funny movement.” Rayla’s order was firm and unconditional.

Ezran approached slowly as Rayla demanded, he clearly didn’t want to test her limits. He pulled the blanket off, revealing what was under it.

“No, it can’t be,” Rayla’s eyes were widened, her mouth fell open in disbelief. The trio were staring at an egg, which was glowing in different hues of blue. The body of the egg was sky blue, with different bright rainbow colours dotted around like on an artist’s pallet. Its warmth and aura created a magical trance that enticed the boys, since they never seen such magic before. Rayla was also not particularly accustomed to seeing such beauty either, considering how precious it was.

“The egg of the Dragon Prince… it wasn’t destroyed,” Callum said, still in disbelief.

Ezran put his ear to the egg, trying to listen to it, then added. “It wants to go home, to his mother.”

Right there and then, the trio shared the same thought, if they could bring the egg back to Xadia, then maybe they could stop the war from happening. Maybe they would prevent more innocents from dying. Maybe they could end this ongoing struggle between humans and elves, and they could be redeemed. They could finally be the ones to make a difference. It was Rayla that beat them to it.

“We must return it to Xadia!” The boys nodded in agreement.

“You’re not going anywhere!” A raspy voice cried from the entrance. The trio turned to the entrance. Rayla bent her legs and readied her swords, preparing herself for a fight, but the human in front of her had no weapons. Instead she was holding an orb, a primal stone.

“Claudia?” Callum said, becoming nervous at the prospect of her getting hurt, but was also unsure about her tone of voice. It seemed colder than usual. He hesitantly took a step towards her and stood by the desk with the shackles and the candle. He didn’t want a fight to break out, so he got in the position to try and prevent it and reason with them both, yet he was unsure of how exactly he would do that.

“Boys get behind me, I’ll protect you from the elf!”

“We don’t need protection; we need to bring this to Xadia, it wants its mother!” Ezran pleaded with Claudia.

“No Ezran, we can’t… it’s a weapon,” Claudia objected. Rayla was clearly lost at that statement.

“A weapon?” She inquired. “It’s an egg! How can you weaponize an egg?”

“Don’t play dumb, you dirty elf!” Claudia retorted. Callum flinched at that, shocked from Claudia’s tone and word choice. He maybe only knew this elf for a short period of time, but granted that she tried to kill him and Ezran, he wouldn’t go as far as to insult her in such a way. Rayla had eerily displayed too many human and relatable emotions for an elf, that it made Callum question the things he knew, that he got told. Claudia was clearly rattled by the quips and composure displayed by Rayla. “You know what I mean, he will grow into a big dragon and humanity will be sent back into darkness again!”

“Don’t you already do that with your _Dark_ Magic?” Rayla quipped further.

“Enough!” Claudia rapidly drew a Sky rune in front of her, just like she did with Callum, but he noticed that this one was slightly different. Apart from the fact that the rune itself was different, it radiated unbelievable amounts of energy and heat. The rune and the energy within it crackled and sparked as it was simultaneously controlled by the boundaries of the drawn rune, yet in total chaos within it. The potential of the explosive power that was currently within it was further demonstrated as sparks and jolts of lightning bounced between the rune, the primal stone and her finger tips. “Callum, Ezran get back! I’ll deal with her.”

Neither of them moved; both of them were hesitant. What was the right thing to do? Callum was torn between delivering the egg back to Xadia potentially stopping the war and supporting his best friend. Perhaps he could persuade her to reconsider into helping them.

Ezran, on the other hand, was unconvinced by Claudia’s remarks, but understood that running away, with a precious egg and an elf no less, was a big decision, as he thought if he would be able to take that step. He looked at Rayla, who noticed his glance, returning him her own. She said nothing, but her gaze softened. Ezran suddenly felt more at ease and confident about his decision, something in that gaze was familiar, kind and inviting. It signalled to him: you can do it, you can do the right thing!

That gaze was something that he didn’t feel too often, if not for a long while. Only then he realised how much he needed that support. “Follow me!” He told Rayla with the utmost confidence, as he led her towards the door by the stand. She darted after him.

Callum was about to follow, but froze when he heard Claudia say: “Don’t worry, I’ll try not to hit Ezran!”

Callum turned looking as she raised her hand about to cast a spell. He couldn’t afford risking Ezran being hit, he needed to stop Claudia! How was she so willing to risk that? Before casting the spell Claudia needed to say a magic word, in Ancient Draconic. This was a small window of opportunity for Callum to think, as he looked at the lightning that whizzed and jumped between her fingers and the primal stone… her mouth opened.

“ _Ful_ …” In that split second Callum leapt for the hand that was holding the primal stone and pulled it towards him and away from the exit. The sounds became muffled in the struggle, the lightning shot out of Claudia’s hands as she finished her word. Luckily for Callum, he managed to do it just in time for her to miss the door and hit the bookcases next to it. He ripped the orb out of her hands, snatching the key and the shackles that were hanging next to them and locked her hand in it. Claudia failed to resist, unable to react to what was happening in time, as she clearly was surprised by Callum’s actions. Everything happened too quickly for her to process.

“What are you doing?!”

“The right thing… I hope.” Callum looked at her apologetically, then turned and chased after Ezran and Rayla. Claudia was standing in disbelief as she couldn’t comprehend the reason for Callum’s actions. She frantically searched for what might help her. She spotted the candle and the jar with dark red powder. The jar was unfortunately hard to reach, but not impossible.

“This should stop that elf… once I reach it!”

* * *

Callum finally caught sight of Ezran and Rayla, he raced towards them trying to catch up. They were both still running. He sprinted so quickly the walls whizzed past him into monotonous grey colours. He was glad that the elf didn’t kill Ezran or steal the egg while he was held up with Claudia, so at the very least he could somewhat rely on her. Yet he still wanted to be there just to calm his nerves down and make sure that nothing bad was going to happen. Then again how would he be able to stop it?

Something growled behind him; he turned around to see what it was and he saw plumes of smoke and a pair of dark red eyes flashing at him hungrily.

“I think there’s something chasing us!” Callum said when he caught up with them. Rayla whipped her swords out.

“Keep running.” She commanded firmly, as she turned to face the unknown danger. Her ears shot sideways as she carefully listened. Perhaps it was a false alarm, but oh no, she could hear something approaching.

The air became noticeably warmer, like there was wildfire spreading to her. From around the corner emerged a dark shadow, made up of thick smoke with reddish purplish outlines. The shadow then split into three smaller shapes that resembled a wolf, while their outlines spread and moved around like fire consuming everything on its path. Their eyes were dark red, almost bloody. Same coloured embers sparked off of their bodies.

Rayla dove at them, both swords slicing through their backs… or so Rayla hoped would have happened. Instead the blades went through them, as the shadows lost their shape turning into smoke, encircling her and then returning to their original form. Now it felt unpleasantly hot, roasting even, but nothing compared to when one of the wolves jumped at one of her hands and bit her. It burned, brutally, like an incandescent metal has been put to her skin.

She flinched as the smoky wolf shadow went through her, leaving burn marks on her hands and sending a burning and scorching sensations throughout her body. She tried to slice her swords sideways, but to no avail. Seeing that there was no way to combat them she retreated, hoping the boys found a way out. However to her frustrations the boys were at a dead end; they must have took a wrong turn in panic.

They were cornered. Trapped. No way to fight those things. Ideas flew in Rayla’s mind.

 _Poor. Awful. Worse. They all died! Sacrificed_! She was lost, unable to see a safe and good way out, but this couldn’t be it. _The Dragon Prince must survive!_

“I don’t know what those creatures are! Fighting them is useless; my swords go right through them!” Rayla tried to sound composed, but there was clearly a hint of panic and emergency in her voice.

Callum finally saw the creatures that were facing them. They were approaching them slowly, ready to pounce and devour them. _They must be the product of Claudia’s dark magic._ Callum thought to himself. _Are they made out of smoke? They seem to drift through air, rather than walk on the actual ground… drift on air?_ Callum glanced at the orb he was still holding. Then it clicked and he had an idea – he could perform that magic spell that Claudia showed him at the library earlier. Could he even do it? Surely he wouldn’t be able to do it? Everything else he tried in his life failed spectacularly. Why would this, of all things, work all of a sudden… on a first try no less? Did he really have a choice?

“I may have something, but I don’t know if I can do it.” Callum blurted out, panic and doubt ever so present in his voice.

“Is this a guessing game? Are you going to keep guessing about this when these creatures are feasting on us? Just do something!” Rayla barked out, her tone filled with frustration – she was in front of them and first in line after all.

Callum took a deep breath, it wouldn’t hurt to try, otherwise it was certain doom.

The wolves drew closer...

He stretched his arm ahead of him, as he replicated the rune that Claudia drew. It felt cool and dry to his fingers, like he stuck it out into a breeze.

The wolves prepared to jump poor Rayla…

He took a deep breath, as suddenly gales of air entered through his mouth and nose, his chest feeling lighter, yet full.

The wolves leapt…

“ _Aspiro_!” He jerked himself forward as gusts of wind expelled rapidly through his mouth. The wolves met by violent rushes of wind dissipated, into smoke and were blown away, driven back through the corridor they came through. _It worked! It actually worked!_ Callum screamed in his head, feeling elated in his success. His eyes met Rayla’s, who looked at him in surprise. He suddenly became a little nervous, as he wondered if he missed something.

“You never told me you were a mage.” She said.

Callum was taken aback. Him? A mage? No way? He was nothing special, a step-prince who wasn’t particularly good at anything, apart from drawing.

“No, I’m not really anything. You surely have it wrong, I’m not a mage.” Yet something deep down him, even though he said it must have been a mistake, felt so oddly right about the word ‘mage’. He couldn’t put his finger on why though, as he hadn’t fully realised what he just did.

“You just did cool magic, though.” Ezran pointed out. “You did something with your fingers, said something weird and casted a spell!”

“Yeah, that’s what a mage does.” Rayla concluded. “You’re a mage.”

“I’m a mage.” Callum repeated, still in slight shock and disbelief. Then It finally hit him, why he felt so right when he heard the word ‘mage’. His chest felt so light, as a rush of glee overtook his brain. He felt like he found something he had been missing all those years, as he was content with himself and approved by others. Was this finally what he was good at? Was this his calling? Callum felt as light as air, that he could float and rise from the ground, such was the burden that freed him. He couldn’t hold back, as he was so overwhelmed with ecstasy and excitement, exclaiming: “I’m a mage!”

His celebrations were paused as Rayla’s finger was put up to his lips shushing him.

“Nobody likes a loud mage.” She shook her head, clearly exasperated by the noise he made. Callum wasn’t deterred, but certainly quietened his happiness.

The trio were about to move on and find a way to the outside of the castle, when the boys noticed that Rayla stood still, frozen in her tracks. Her face was strained, as she intensely weighed something in her head. It was nearly the time for the attack to occur. She needed to prevent Runnan and the rest from killing Ezran and Harrow, and that egg might convince Runnan to call off the mission. She needed to find them as quickly as possible, she couldn’t waste time. Lives, including her squad’s, were on the line.

“What’s wrong?” Ezran finally asked.

“Look, it’s really long and complicated. I need you to give me the egg!” Rayla said with a sense of urgency.

“Why?”

“I just need you to trust me, okay?”

“Yeah, right.” Callum objected, sarcasm spewing out of his posture. “Because you know, we go way back to like an hour ago when you tried to kill us, remember? Good times.”

Rayla was a little perturbed by his comment, even though he was right. They have only just met, there couldn’t be any sort of trust between them, but did they not know what the word from a Moonshadow elf meant? They do not throw them around easily. Besides what could stop her from outright killing them and taking the egg for herself? Okay, maybe not the killing part, she would struggle to do it on an emotional level, but she could easily steal the egg and run away; there was no way they could catch her.

The princes did not really understand that she needed them to help her travel through Katolis. Sure, she could easily head East constantly, but it would be quicker with their knowledge of the lands. And most importantly they had to do it together to have a chance of peace between their races.

Callum could see the gears in her head turning. “Look,” he sighed. “Perhaps you could maybe tell us your name to start with, since this is bound to be a long journey?”

Great, the humans were willing to cooperate! The fact that they didn’t know her name actually made her annoyed at herself for not telling them earlier… then again they didn’t really get the chance to, since they were on the opposite sides mere minutes ago.

“Oh, I’m Rayla.”

“Well, our names are Callum and Ezran, princes of Katolis.”

“…and Bait.” Ezran added. Bait croaked grumpily at Callum, then Ezran was quick to add “But he’s not a prince; he’s our pet.”

“I already know your names.”

“Well, we’re doing the introductions officially now!” Ezran beamed.

“Call it, starting from a blank canvas.” Callum added, clearly exposing his artistic nature. Rayla’s eyes rolled, then she pressed urgently.

“The reason why I need the egg, is that I’m not alone. There are five more elves, like me, coming to the castle. I need the egg to persuade them to stop the mission!”

Callum turned to Ezran. “The King.” His eyes filled with panic and concern. Ezran still riding off of the wave of confidence he received earlier, looked at Rayla.

“We’re going to the surface and doing this together.” He said firmly.

Rayla wasn’t sure if that was the best idea, since Runnan hated humans, but perhaps if they did it together then maybe she could have easier time persuading him. Rayla didn’t say anything else, as the trio quickly moved to find a way out.

* * *

“Harrow, may I?” Viren said but did not wait for his answer as he entered Harrow’s chamber. It was cold inside it, as the door leading to his balcony was still open.

“You’ve come to say your goodbye?” Harrow asked calmly.

“Well,” Viren stammered, he certainly wasn’t expecting Harrow to be this accepting. This already put himself into a disadvantage, as it was going to be an uphill battle. He had to remain cool. “I have come to tell you that I am willing to sacrifice my soul for yours. I will be honoured to do it.”

Harrow’s face fell a little. “Oh, Viren,” he turned to face him. His face looked firm, even though his eyes were a bit puffy. “I’ve told you my answer and I’m not changing it. I’m not going to do this!”

“Please Harrow, think about what your death is going to cause. The kingdom will be weak.”

“It’s already not in the strongest position, thanks to my decisions.” Mild annoyance began to creep into Harrow’s voice. “Because if it was, then we wouldn’t be in this position. I will face my judgement tonight!”

“Harrow, you cannot let pride be your downfall.” Viren grew more and more frustrated, as he felt the warmth creeping into his face. “If you blame yourself for being in this position, then can’t you see that your stubbornness will further cause chaos for Katolis.”

“Oh, Viren,” his quiet voice shook with fury, his face turned stone cold, as he shut his eyes, attempting to contain the furious fire spreading in his eyes. “You still don’t see it do you?” Harrow said it under his breath and Viren did not hear him.

“Swap bodies with me Harrow!” Viren pressed further. “For the kingdom! For your family! For your friend!”

There was a moment of silence, as uneasiness filled the room. The two men were getting more and more infuriated, as the conversation became more and more heated.

“No.” Harrow finally spoke. His answer was short and sharp, hinting not to press any more on the matter, but Viren missed, or maybe ignored, that signal.

Viren attempted to remain composed and hide the molten rage that was inside him, as he began to desperately reason with him. “I don’t understand, even when we have the chance for a better outcome, you would rather snub it to remain bitterly proud until the end!”

It was Harrow that exploded first, he finally snapped, raising his voice. “It’s another shortcut, Viren, and those never lead to anything good! Look where we at now because of your creative solutions!” Viren looked dumbfounded. He wasn’t expecting his best friend to turn on him like that, pinning the blame on him. Harrow kept going, “First with the magma titan – the two queens of Duren and my wife, Sarai, have paid with their lives. Second, when I let my blind hatred listen to you and kill Thunder out of revenge and then letting you kill his heir, who was just an egg – now the elves came to kill me for hurting them. I should’ve stopped you from destroying the egg of the Dragon King, but I was too empty to care.” Harrow vividly remembered how Avizandum died, stretching his paw outward towards his home, the Storm Spire, where his egg was, as he was slowly turning into stone. Then he remembered what Marcos told him and how he escaped the assassins. Harrow sighed. “After all this time, He was right – Xadians aren’t so different from us. They can be just as vengeful as us.”

“He is a traitor!” Viren’s anger finally appeared on display for Harrow. 

“He was the only good person around in the entire Human Kingdoms!” Harrow defended Him. It was the very least he could do for Him now, having failed to do so previously when He was around, misunderstood and unsupported by others, including Harrow himself. Harrow hoped that the guilt that gnawed at him would finally ease even if He never found out about this. “He was the only one who saw through the façade of our history where we gave pathetic excuses and lies for our unspeakable and grim actions! He saw the truth that was in front of our eyes the entire time and nobody listened! Nobody even bothered to understand Him, instead forcing and shoving our ideas upon Him! He saw the rot that was manifesting itself within our Kingdoms, as He was being sucked into it by those in charge. He didn’t run away; He escaped, leaving us to pay for our horrible deeds.” Harrow took a deep breath to finally allow himself to slow down. Viren was clearly in shock, unable to recover in the slightest from Harrow’s revelation. “And you know what Viren, I am going to face it and pay for my actions and hope that my children don’t have to pay for my mistakes as well. One day, Viren, you’ll pay for yours as well and I hope it won’t extend to your children.” The silence became deafening, as the meaning of Harrow’s words vibrated and echoed in his mind. Viren finally regained some focus, as he finally spoke.

“Harrow! Enough! Don’t let pride consume you, your kingdom still needs you!”

“That’s ‘Your Highness’ to you!” Harrow spoke coldly, not even dignifying him with a look. Harrow’s gigantic posture grew, appearing like the famous Katolis tower, as he closed the distance between them, his presence protruding over Viren. Viren was lost, as he felt smaller and smaller.

“Harrow… I…” Viren staggered. It was Harrow’s calm and cold voice that finally terrified Viren to his core, as dread finally eclipsed his body, obeying Harrow.

“You’ve stepped out of line, Viren, and started treating me as your equal, but you will be reminded of your place. Get down on your knees, like the subordinate you are!”

* * *

The full moon, so grand and alone, was hidden behind a cloud.

 _C’mon I know you are here._ Rayla sensed Runnan’s presence. She stood just past a crate, on top of the castle walls, alone. There was a light breeze in the air, as her lunar hair flailed to the side, getting in the way of her face. She brushed it off behind her ears and listened carefully. She couldn’t see him, but his aura was obvious to her.

“You dared to disobey me?” Runnan’s voice was eerily calm, as he emerged from the shadows beneath the tower ahead of her.

“Runnan, you have to call off the mission!” Straight and to the point, it almost sounded like an order from Rayla, which caught Runnan off guard.

“Have you lost your mind? We cannot unbind, not until the job is done or we lose our hands!”

“The egg wasn’t destroyed, Runnan.” Rayla continued looking serious.

“You really have lost your mind.” Runnan remained dismissive of her words. He was about to continue but she cut him off.

“No, Runnan please, me and two humans have found the egg…”

“How many times do I have to tell you, humans are liars! You were foolish to believe them!”

“No,” she stammered, desperation surfacing in her face. She was about to reject his claims, but she was tricked and lied to several times prior to the discovery. On the other hand, it was done to protect themselves, so surely the intentions were good? Nevertheless, that was a statement she couldn’t reject, yet she couldn’t hesitate either. “I saw it.”

“Enough Rayla, you were tricked…”

“She’s telling the truth.” It was Callum’s voice as he emerged from behind the crate. He needed to step up and support Rayla, who was struggling. He was very afraid, his breathing was speeding up. Perhaps if he matched Rayla’s fearlessness and strength, he could persuade the elf. Rayla managed to hide it well, but in reality she was very nervous, it was imperative she succeeded, more than one life could have been saved that day. Runnan was clearly lost to see this human boy be so supportive to Rayla and standing right next to her.  
“You’re a fool for trusting him, Rayla.” Runnan took the bow that was slung over his shoulder aimed it Callum. “And he’ll pay for this.” Runnan clearly wasn’t going to believe them.

Callum told himself to stand his ground, even though his back foot shifted slightly further back to prepare for an escape. His breathing was picking up once again, but seeing someone as confident as Rayla eased his nerves slightly, even if Callum didn’t know that she was feigning. At least he wasn’t facing this alone. There was only one thing left to do.  
“Ezran!” Callum called for him. As he did, Ezran emerged, holding the egg, that was glowing brightly in the moonlight.  
“That’s impossible.” Runnan lowered his bow slightly, unable to move from the spot from the sheer disbelief. It was like lightning struck him, there and then.

Rayla seized this opportunity to press Runnan. “How can we seek justice for a crime that never took place? You have to call off the mission!”  
“We’ve bound ourselves, besides just because the egg isn’t destroyed that doesn’t excuse the King’s actions!” The mission must be completed, it would be a dishonour to abandon it!

Rayla was confused. Sure, she understood that the King’s actions couldn’t be excused, even though they would inevitably get hurt back by the humans, continuing the cycle, as Callum put it. Did Runnan not see that the egg was more important than the mission? Did he not see the chance at peace that they could have, the many lives that could be saved, including his squad’s?  
“Now, hand me over the egg!” Runnan ordered. He wasn’t going to spare the princes; he didn’t trust them.  
 _Enough!_ Rayla thought. _I am right and I will defend it to the last, you’re either with me or against me! I will not allow you to bring me down with them, they made their choice! I will be redeemed and I will fix my parent’s mistakes... I will be forgiven..._ She unsheathed her swords and with the new found determination, she readied herself to fight her mentor.

The moon began to emerge from behind the cloud, its light touching the two elves. Rayla spoke quietly to Callum, so that Runnan couldn’t hear her. “Run! Hide somewhere, whilst I hold him off! Protect the egg!”

You didn’t have to tell Callum twice. He took Ezran’s hand and ran away into the courtyard, but he had other plans. Callum had to try and tell Harrow of this discovery, if anyone could stop the war it was the King, right? If Rayla found courage to stand up to her people, then maybe Callum could too. He told Ezran to hide in the cart with hay, while he ran towards the tower to his step-father’s chambers.  
The moon was now fully out from behind the cloud in all its magnificence, or rather only showing its brighter side. Both Runnan and Rayla felt a swarm of new energy envelop them, like second wind.  
“You do realise, that I won’t hesitate to kill you.” Runnan said gravely, splitting his bow in half to form a pair of curved blades.  
“Probably.” Rayla whispered under her breath.

The elves’ bodies suddenly turned a darker colour, becoming more transparent. It was their Moonshadow form, as they became invisible to the naked eye, but as soon as they ran towards each other, provided you squinted hard enough, you could barely manage to make out the light blue hue their figures gave off and their silver hair and bright eyes that also stood out a little. The swords clashed and Runnan was forced to recoil backwards. Rayla’s movement was as quick as light. She easily dodged Runnan’s swings as she whipped back and forth. Her speed was lethal, as Runnan struggled to parry her blades’ blistering blows, not giving him a chance to strike back. Runnan was forced to jump backwards, but any sort of distance he tried to put between them, she always covered it quickly. All he had left to do was wait for the perfect opportunity to come by, since Rayla was still a little green as a fighter.

What Runnan said was true – he wouldn’t hesitate to kill Rayla if he had to, even though it would harrow and haunt the rest of his life. However, Rayla wasn’t holding back, it was as though as she was dead set on defeating him and looked like she wouldn’t hesitate either. Yet again her heart ruled the actions and not her head, so Runnan wondered: was she actually capable of killing him? Would she actually do it?

This time, Rayla was a split second too slow, as she left her vulnerable front open for too long. Runnan kicked her in the stomach, flinging her back to the crate. As she flew, Runnan stuck the two blades together to form a bow and took out two arrows. He aimed and pulled the string back. He Inhaled. He heard her back slam against the crate. Runnan turned the bow sideways and let go of the string. The two arrows pierced the crate, barely missing Rayla’s sides. She slid down the crate until the arrows got stuck underneath her armpits, preventing her from sliding down to the floor.

“What have you seen in those two humans, that you’re willing to fight me and not hand over the egg?”

“That you’re wrong.” Rayla spat. That struck Runnan’s nerves. “And what I saw in them is a chance to prevent the war from happening.” Rayla snapped the arrows and threw them at Runnan’s face. She flung herself towards him and kicked a distracted Runnan in his side, toppling him over the edge towards the courtyard. Rayla jumped after plunging Runnan, hoping that her bold words and her determined stance would force Runnan to continue fighting her, giving the princes more time. She prayed that Runnan wasn’t injured after that fall, but her back was certainly whining from the crate. Her blades plunged into the ground right next to Runnan’s face, who immediately rolled away.

Runnan was certain Rayla was trying to kill him, so it surprised him that she missed his face, even though she had an easy chance. Despite his bad fall, Runnan leapt back at Rayla, his bow turning back into two swords.

Rayla saw a hint of rage and ruthlessness in Runnan’s eyes. Her plan worked. Now, it was her who tried to maintain some distance between them, as she dodged and listened to a symphony of whistles of Runnan’s blades that swung just past her.

“You know Runnan, when you fight you are supposed to hit your target, not miss it constantly.” Rayla quipped impertinently. It was her only form of attack, as she did not attempt to counter. Runnan’s swings became harder and more precise. “I sure hope you weren’t trying back there, because that would be easier to explain why you missed me point blank.” Rayla continued. Runnan hit harder. Rayla’s back was getting on her nerves, she needed a break. “I can do this all night, I wonder what Ethari will say when he finds out about this.”

Runnan stopped. Rayla was an elf who quipped and teased a lot, but this was a bit too much even for her. It was like she was trying harder, as he certainly never expected her to mention Ethari, his husband. Both of the elves paused to recover as the pain nagged them.

“You saw the egg, there is no need for vengeance tonight!” Rayla exclaimed, but Runnan ignored her.

“You talk too much, you weren’t that talkative during a confrontation before. Who did you pick that one up from?” Runnan asked with genuine curiosity.

“Oh, that’s a very recent addition.” She needed to keep talking as long as possible so that Runnan wouldn’t return to the mission, to the tower. Unfortunately for Rayla, her eyes betrayed her as she quickly glanced at the very tower the King resided in. That wasn’t a new addition that Rayla wanted to pick up, as it clearly hadn’t worked for Callum. Runnan caught her glance and quickly put the pieces together.

“You’re just stalling me.”

“Interesting theory, care to discuss?” Rayla casually leant on her sword. Runnan only looked at her despicably and ran away towards the tower.

Instead of chasing after him, Rayla searched for the princes. She believed that she gave them enough time to hide.

 _The egg is more important_. She kept telling herself. Her search didn’t take too long, as she noticed a cart full of suspiciously glowing hay. Considering Ezran hid the egg in his little backpack, it must have been Bait who was giving him away.

“This one isn’t so good at hiding.” She remarked.

“I know, I keep telling him that.” Ezran’s head peered out of the hay. His eyes were squinting really hard at Rayla.

“Oh, right, sorry. It’s my Moonshadow form.” Rayla turned back into her normal self.

“Wow, that’s cool!” Ezran was awestruck.

“Where’s Callum?”

“Oh, he’s gone to see his father, into that tower.” And to Rayla’s horror he pointed to the tower that the assassins were about to attack.

“Oh no, that’s the last place he should be in, right now.”

* * *

Callum ran up the stairs, with stationary guards whizzing past every few steps. He arrived before the half a dozen guards, with Marcos amongst them, that stood in front of the doors to his step-father’s chambers. Soren stood right before the doors acting as the last defender, his sword at the ready. He looked quizzically at Callum.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at the Banther Lodge?”

“I need to speak to the King!”

“I can’t let you in, the assassin’s raid is going to start any moment now and you’re too weak to be here, so I suggest once the King isn’t busy with dying, you can speak to him tomorrow.”

Marcos shot him the most disapproving look at Soren. Before Callum or Marcos could open their mouths, they felt a little draft, as the doors to Harrow’s chambers slowly opened. Viren emerged with glassy eyes and a blank expression, slowly shutting the door behind him. Soren recognised that defeated look of his, but what he didn’t know was that a flurry of emotions were swarming Viren: pain, anger, betrayal…

He finally noticed Callum, disgust and bitterness overwhelmed his face. “What are you doing here, boy?”

“I want to speak to the King, High Mage Viren.” Callum’s eyes momentarily widened as something began to click in his head.

“I’m sure it can…”

“It can’t wait, it’s a matter of the highest urgency – we found something!”

“‘We’?”

“Yes, ‘we’, something that can stop this war, down in the secret passageway from the scribe’s room…” Viren’s grim gaze pierced Callum’s face. “… the one _you_ usually work in…” Realisation slowly dawned on him.

“Where is it?” Viren’s hand reached down his pocket and produced an animal’s paw in his hand that he held delicately.

“That dungeon belongs to you! You stole the egg!” Callum stepped backwards. Viren shrugged his shoulders.

“What egg?” He clenched his fist, squeezing the paw. His eyes began to glow purple, as he chanted something other worldly that chilled Callum to the bone.

“The egg of the Dra…” Callum suddenly was not able to speak, as a plume of green smoke erupted from Viren’s fist and formed a hand that violently shot out and into Callum’s mouth. It came out holding a small orb of light and retracted back into Viren’s fist. The guards, jarred by the scene before them, scattered to the side and watched in horror, only Marcos and Soren remained rooted to their spots.

Callum fell to his knees, as he struggled to speak or breathe. All of the air he had abandoned him through his nose and mouth. His breathing was so shallow and short that he felt that he was suffocating, his chest feeling empty and unbearably heavy. His eyes full of panic and confusion, looked up at Viren, who looked maliciously calm, yet his face grimaced and his eyes filled with unbridled rage.

“You absolute mongrel.” His voice was enveloped in ice cold wrath, that had been festering beneath his calm surface for a long time. “You spoiled and nosy little brat! You were given everything and for what? You are weak!”

Callum helplessly glanced at Soren, who looked uneasy and panicked, like he was frozen to the spot at the scene before him. His gaze met Callum’s begging green eyes. “Dad, please stop!” Soren spoke uncharacteristically timidly, still jarred seeing his father in such a state.

Viren, instead of listening to his son, leaned towards Callum and whispered into his ear through his messy hair. “You have no idea what you’re dealing with, boy. That egg could be the end of us all, as humanity will cease to exist as we know it, at the hands of the elves!”

“That’s enough, Viren!” It was Marcos who spoke. Viren shot back up and looked condescendingly at him.

“You have the impudence to speak to me like that, boy? Without a title? By my first name?” He sniggered. “And what are you going to do to me?”

“What am I going to do? No, what you’re going to do!” Marcos accepted the challenge, as he drew his sword and pointed it at Viren. Soren appeared by his dad’s side and pointed his sword back at Marcos, even though Soren did not approve of what Viren was doing to his friend. Callum crawled away sluggishly as he felt a fight was brewing. “You’re going to stop doing whatever you’re doing to poor Prince Callum, at the very least. You’ll apologise to Prince Callum for your words and this will stay here just between us, you have my word. If you don’t take this chance, then I will be glad to let the King know, so that you face far harsher consequences for your actions!”

Callum appreciated Marcos standing up for him, they didn’t know each other long but their interactions have been friendly so far and he seemed to adore Ezran… who wouldn’t? However Callum felt deeply hurt by Viren’s words, because he was right. He was weak, helpless and defenceless. He had all the opportunities in the world when his mom married King Harrow and he hasn’t succeeded or made progress in any of them. All his efforts and, worst of all, other people’s efforts were wasted on him and he couldn’t forgive himself for that. He just could never fit in with anything or anyone. The magic that he did earlier was the best thing he had achieved in his life and, provided he came out of this alive, he would do everything to make the most out of it. Callum wondered whether fate was going to smile again and give him yet another chance…

“Well, you can get the King involved in this, as long as you take responsibility if he gets attacked right now.” Viren sneered coldly, as he continued complacently. “Still, you don’t know anything, not even a fraction of what Harrow knows. He will understand the intent of my actions.”

“Well, I have eyes.” Marcos fired back. “And I can see how it looks. You know, for everything we get taught about them, I’m almost inclined to call you an elf right now, and the one that spared me in the forest last night a human.”

The whole room became paralysed, frozen in an increment of time, as they processed what Marcos said. Not only it was incredibly insulting to be compared to an elf, but it also was simply unbelievable that an elf was capable of such a feat. In fact if it wasn’t for the insult the whole room would shrug in disbelief, denying the possibility of those events.

“Oh, you must’ve hit your head really hard when you escaped the elves to come up with something so delusional.” Viren laughed sinisterly. “You telling me that what you’re saying is true? You are so worthless and incompetent that even an elf didn’t dignify you with an. honourable death? Besides what does your word even mean, if you can’t force even your own subjects to follow orders and patrol the forest?”

There were a few sniggers in the room, Marcos’s hand trembled a little as his eyes bashfully looked away, trying to avoid anybody’s eyesight. Rattled, he replied weakly. “I doubt they’ll give you an honourable death, in fact we can find that out soon enough.”

In a cruel twist of fate, all the lights in the room were put out, swallowing the room in darkness. The guards drew their swords, as fear flooded them. There were footsteps, followed by muffled gasps and screams. They were here.

“Dad, look out!” Soren ducked and pushed Viren to the side, as an arrow flew past sinking into the door behind them. Viren fell and dropped the paw with the orb that he was holding. The orb glided back towards Callum and as it slid back into his mouth Callum began to cough and pant, as he finally got the ability to speak and properly breathe again. His head was hazy from the sudden rush of air that he desperately needed, as he lifted it to process the fight that was taking place before him.

Blurry figures with dark blue outlines merged seamlessly with the darkness that surrounded the room, making it impossible to fully track them. He could only track the hacked and gutted soldiers and elves that were falling to the floor spilling endless streams of blood around them. The twisted and severed limbs were mangled and tossed aside from the impaled guards and assassins. He heard one of the soldiers scream, as he was flung backwards, his spine shattering against the doors to Harrow’s chamber. Callum jerked upwards.

“King Harrow! Dad!” He screamed, but there was no way he could hear him. Horrified, Callum could only stand and watch the brutal fight that was filled with screams and screeches of agony and anguish. In all of this noise, Callum could somehow acutely hear the dying sorrowful breaths of the fallen fighters, as he became more and more aware of his own, racing. His ever faster beating heart was the only things that moved, as he stood still, too mortified and powerless to do anything to stop this.

His heart sunk, as he regrettably imagined this scene but on the border between the Human Kingdoms and Xadia. If this was simply a brutal skirmish before him, then how atrocious would the war be? He caught glimpses of humans and elves disintegrating in the lava that divided the two continents, with those that were unlucky not to burn in the red hot lava being dismembered and twisted by the maces, swords and spears that were caked in blood. That blood would flood the battlefield and even turn the bright orange river of lava into crimson red, with soldiers being harder and harder to tell apart as everything became bloody.

Callum slowly seethed red with anger at his own ineptitude to put a stop to any of this, as he plunged back into reality. If only it was as easy, as stopping imagining it was, then nobody else would had to experience what he saw, especially Ezran. His heart jolted as he remembered his brother. Was he safe? He had to come back and find him!

He darted for the doors as chaos ruled around him. He prayed that fate, having smiled twice today, would be charitable to do it a third time, as he hoped to not have blood spraying out of his body any time soon. He ran back down the stairs, hopping every few steps over the fallen guards.

Near the end Callum tripped over one of the bodies, tumbling down the rest of the way, until he hit something that stopped him dead in his tracks. Callum’s face met a guard’s wincing face, it was so close to him that he could make out the features, even though it was dark. He looked so young… round face, green eyes and tufts of messy hair were visible from under his helmet. The soldier was slowly turning his face upwards to catch the air around him, as his body twitched with every fleeting breath. His eyes looked at Callum’s face, it was filled with familiar terror and fear as they seemed to lose focus. Callum was incredibly sorry for accidentally hurting this soldier, but he was so afraid that he was unable to say anything. The soldier read Callum’s expression like a book. His eyes and face suddenly softened, was he trying to smile? With a barely audible whisper he spoke: “Get out of here, kid… I’ll hold… them off… they’ll… trip…” His hand that was slowly reaching towards his sword went limp.

Callum shut his eyes, as he got up quickly, trying his best to forget the haunting image that he just experienced and the pain that nagged his leg. He tried his best to focus on Ezran, as he ran towards the courtyard. He flew into the door, nearly taking out Rayla and Ezran who were running towards the said door from the other side.

“Ezran! You’re safe!” Callum kneeled and pulled him into a crushing hug.

“Ow, Callum, you’re hurting me!” Ezran complained. Callum eased his grip slightly. “Did you talk to dad?”

Callum pulled back to face him. “No… I didn’t.” His face was sullen and torn. He suddenly felt someone’s hand on his shoulder. It was Rayla, who kneeled as well.

“Say the word and I’ll go back into that tower with you!” Rayla saw Callum’s eyes widen and fill with horror and terror. Without him saying it, she knew he wouldn’t go back there as he clearly saw something that scarred him.

Callum looked back at Ezran and remembered the egg that was glowing behind him in his backpack underneath Bait. His eyes suddenly glinted and livened up a little, despite him still being shocked from tonight. This was it, he maybe could stop the war. He could be useful.

“No, we must deliver the egg back to Xadia and prevent humans and elves going to war.” He decreed.

“We can make a difference.” Rayla nodded.

“And bring him home to his mother.” Ezran added.

“Just the three of us.” Callum said. Bait croaked angrily at that. Callum was quick to correct his mistake. “Four of us.”

The trio… sorry, the quartet… fled the castle into Katolis woods and headed East to Xadia.

* * *

Runnan finally climbed over the edge of the balcony, his back was still aching from the fall he took earlier with his fight with Rayla. He had to forget about her and his back for the time being, as he focused on delivering justice to the King of Katolis. Her justice would come later. He quietly strode towards the balcony door, leading into the King’s chambers. It was open?! Runnan suspiciously entered, expecting a trap.

“There’s no need for that. There are no traps.” The King stood with his back to Runnan, looking at the picture of his family. He slowly turned towards him, both of his hands on his sword. He had one of the calmest looks Runnan ever saw from a target. Runnan split his bow.

“You know why I’m here.”

“To deliver _your_ justice for my murder of Thunder, The Dragon King.” Harrow said calmly and Runnan caught a glimpse of regret in his eyes.

“You seem accepting of my justice?” Runnan was puzzled.

“I don’t agree with it, but I must pay for what I’ve done and I will face it.”

The quiet, but tense atmosphere was fuelled by the chaos that still ensued outside of the chambers, Harrow occasionally twitched with sadness whenever he heard a dying scream from the outside.

“Before we do this, I’d like to ask you.” He began and Runnan didn’t interrupt. “That elf that spared one of my men’s lives. Is she out there right now?”

“She is not part of the mission anymore… for making that mistake. She got us spotted, but at least she’ll live.” Runnan dignified him with a bitter reply. He hastily readied to deal the initial blow. He didn’t have much time and any conversation would waste it and distract him, as recent experience seemed to suggest. In any case he didn’t appreciate this human prying into their mission.

“You ought to be less harsher to her. Not only she’s the living proof for humans that maybe not all elves are bloodthirsty monsters, but also that guard spotted all of you. You all made that mistake and the whole castle would’ve been alerted anyway, especially if he didn’t return.”

“You dare teach me how to do my job?”

“We are both leaders, we can learn a little off of each other.”

“I’m done talking, it’s time to finish this.”

“Even though I said I’ll gladly face my justice, I’ll make sure to make it as difficult as possible for you!”

“I’m an elite warrior; you don’t have a chance.”

“My chances are very slim, that’s very true. But in these situations someone I know used to say this with a calm, determined and sometimes smirking expression on his face: ‘I like those odds!’”

Runnan lunged, both of his swords clashing with Harrow’s longsword. Close quarters combat was one of Runnan’s strengths, but the King defended very well. Runnan tried to attack him quickly from every angle, but Harrow remained rooted to the spot as he blocked and parried his attacks. The King rarely launched a counter parry of his own, instead using his fist to deal devastating damage to Runnan’s sides and face. This human kept his word, he wouldn’t go down easily, as he threw a chair at Runnan, who dodged it this time. Runnan’s sides and back were screaming with pain, but he ignored it and closed his distance with Harrow. This time he wanted Harrow to make the first move, as he tried to feign his swings. Harrow, unconventionally for any Moonshadow elf, used his leading foot to kick Runnan’s knee, which collapsed to the floor. Kneeling, Runnan felt Harrow’s sword swing backwards, before it was charging downwards to slice him. In the last ditch attempt, Runnan lifted his sword up to block it and lunged his other sword into Harrow’s side.

The sword cut through, sliding deeper into Harrow, who jerked backwards holding onto his wound. He fell onto the floor slumping up against his desk, as he breathed heavily, gasping for the ever departing air. Runnan stood up, but didn’t move. There was no way the King could survive this, as he felt one of his bindings loosen ever so slightly.

“Callum… Ezran… my sons, I will watch over you… always.” Harrow’s eyes blinked, before looking up into or rather through the ceiling, as a smile slowly creeped across his face.

“I’m coming to you… Sarai… my love…” Harrow’s last words escaped him as he fell still.

Runnan slowly limped towards the balcony, as he heard the fight outside dying down. He stuck his swords into the bow as he produced a steel arrow that had a bird’s face on the end of it – a Shadow Hawk. He wrapped the binding that turned from white to dark red onto that arrow. The doors opened behind him, with running footsteps approaching the balcony. Collapsing on his knees near edge of the balcony, Runnan, with the last sliver of energy he had left, loaded the arrow and pointed it East.

“ _Regina Draconis_.” He shot the arrow that turned dark red and took on a form of a hawk, as it flew East towards Xadia. Runnan became at ease, taking a deep breath, as his shoulders slumped – justice was restored.


	4. Misconceptions and Misunderstandings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first day of travelling to Xadia presented many challenges that Rayla, Callum and Ezran had to solve: cultural differences and Rayla's secrets being two of them. Callum convinced the group to detour to the Banther Lodge, unknowingly, a place that other humans were also heading to, who would threaten their journey. However, unbeknownst to anyone, the return of a mysterious hailed figure and his sudden interest in the events that took place the previous night, ensured that once everyone converged, this detour would become even more interesting.

“Callum, is dad going to be ok?”

Rayla froze. The boys didn’t know of his demise, but she did, as soon as that binding fell off. She hid it, afraid that they would turn on her and that this journey would be over. Moonshadow elves accepted the cycle of life and death and saw everything naturally pass into a different world, one that reflected life. It was easier for them to handle death, but how would the humans react to it?

“I’m sure he’s okay, Ez, he has the finest guards defending him.” Callum said reassuringly. Whether that was for himself or Ezran, Rayla wasn’t sure.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Ezran grabbed Bait tighter and curled around him, his sleepy head fell on his backpack that was neatly placed by him. “Good night.”

“Sleep tight, Ezran.” Callum lied next to him, almost fell as he felt exhausted after running for a long time away from home. He realised that in all the panic he forgot his own backpack in the castle; left it in his bedroom. So no ‘comfy pillow’ for him. He lied face up staring into the stars above him. He always imagined himself star gazing when he went to sleep, but now he didn’t have to. The sky was open right above him – cold, dark and empty… with the tiny fading lights, they called stars, so, so far away. It was then he started to miss the bed, the castle walls and the blankets. Yet he still hadn’t fully realised how much his life was changing.

Callum glanced over to Rayla, who sat on a rock looking deflated. “Good night, Rayla.” He told her. Rayla’s body tensed since she was clearly on edge, but Callum was too tired to spot that.

“Oh… uh… good night, Prince Callum.” She tried her best to sound like nothing was wrong.

“Just call me Callum.” He mumbled, his mind drifting off to sleep.

Rayla sighed, she wasn’t going to go to sleep any time soon. She was still full of adrenaline that the full moon was pumping into her, as her mind raced about King Harrow, the egg, the princes and her last binding. There was no way she was killing Ezran, but that would mean she would lose her hand. Was there really no other way?

While the princes dreamt, Rayla fruitlessly tried to take the binding off. She used her hands, swords, even tried to chant some magic spells she made up in her head: ‘ _unbindo_ ’, ‘ _unbind!_ ’, ‘ _unbind yourself!_ ’, ‘ _unbind thou-self_ ’. Her useless attempts were interrupted by the sound of bells, coming far away from the direction of Katolis castle. She looked anxiously between the castle and the boys, hoping the bell wouldn’t wake them up… because she knew for whom the bells tolled.

* * *

The bells hummed slowly, making a lamentable and mournful noise heard across Katolis castle and the town that surrounded it. The trail was formed from the castle to the Valley of Graves, where all the notable people of Katolis were buried. A coffin made of crimson red and gold was carried by the council people, led by Opeli, the High Council advisor, Soren, Claudia and Viren at the front.

“I forgot to mention it, but thanks dad, for freeing me earlier,” Claudia whispered.

“Claudia, right now is not the right time… but you’re welcome.” Viren replied very quietly.

The column moved slowly through the town, looking down at the ground, mourning the loss of King Harrow. However one head looked up.

“It is tradition to mourn the fallen King of Katolis for seven days and seven nights… you’re not even giving him a full night.” Opeli, a stickler for rules, looked furiously at Viren, her silver eyes piercing the back of his head.

“Opeli, we need to act quickly.” Viren said without looking at her. “I don’t have a choice, we are at our most vulnerable right now and the Sunfire elves could attack us.”

“That doesn’t matter, we still have a standing army at The Breach and General Amaya is a highly skilled tactician. We need to follow the rules and give him the full week!” Opeli insisted, looking away scornfully. “Speaking of rules, where are the Princes?”

“They’re dead!” Viren replied coldly. Their bodies were not found and since it was Moonshadow assassins, Viren assumed the worst. Perhaps that was what Harrow meant when he hoped his children would be left out of this. Oh, how wrong he turned out to be. “I’ve already told you, Opeli, and I’m not changing my mind. The situation is different, we must be practical. We don’t have time! Who knows what else lurks around the corner.”

* * *

A hooded dark figure lurked in the crowd following the column. His black cape with golden edges almost went down to the ground, which made him look like he was elegantly floating after the aforementioned column. His head intensely looked at it, almost searching for something… or someone.

 _Why did it have to be you, Harrow?_ He thought to himself. _You were one of the very few good people in Western Xadia. Why did you kill Avizandum?_

The figure continuously searched and followed the column, but once the search failed to yield any results, he stopped next to a chubby man, letting the column trail further down towards the Valley of Graves.

The crowd started to slowly dissipate, some followed the column, whilst some went back home, since there was work to be done tomorrow. The cloaked man waited until the last soldier from the column was out of sight. He looked down at the ground, just like the chubby man next to him did. Finally, once no one was too close to hear the conversation, the cloaked man broke the silence.

“What happened here?” His silky velvety voice was forced into a whisper with great effort.

“What do you mean?” The chubby man was clearly confused by his question.

“I know it’s the funeral of our beloved King Harrow,” the man continued assertively. “But how did he die?”

“You must be new here?” The chubby man kept looking down, despite the fact that the hooded man’s voice didn’t strike as a voice of a normal weary traveller to him. It was a little bit too energetic and youthful, a little brisk.

“Yep.” The man sounded warmer and friendlier. “I’ve only arrived in Katolis tonight.”

“It was an attack by Moonshadow assassins, the worst kept secret in the entire Katolis. Everyone knew about this attack, since the soldiers have doubled up on their defences in the castle.”

“How did you know it was Moonshadow elves?”

“Well, you know how quickly the gossip spreads around here…”

“Oh I do and not just here…”

“I know it, because I know one of the soldiers, my son, Marcos.”

“What did he say?”

 _Perhaps that was a little too quick._ The hooded figure realised.

“Why are you so interested?”

“I have been away for a while, so I’m simply curious about what I missed.” The man replied without a shroud of hesitation.

“He told me that an elf spared him, when he was running away.” The chubby man said still suspicious from the man’s curiosity. “I don’t believe that though. Elves, and assassins especially, are ruthless. Either way, Marcos got really lucky to come away with his life.”

“He sure did.”

“You know what’s weird, why does your voice seem familiar to me?”

“I’m sure it’s a coincidence.” The hooded figure snubbed quickly. “You know what’s weirder, where were the princes?”

“That is very weird, but I believe Marcos told me that the princes were sent away…”

“…to the Banther Lodge.” The hooded man finished his sentence realising he accidently said it out loud when the answer dawned upon him. It was known to the public that the King had a winter residence, but not everyone knew the name of it.

The chubby man for the first time looked at him. He saw the man looking ahead of him, hiding his face from him, but he couldn’t hide the interior of his cape and hood. It was green… and it might have been dark, but was that a letter engraved on the inside of his cape?

“Thank you very much,” it was a little rushed but the man remained polite. “I hope you have a calm night and a great day tomorrow.” The cloaked man quickly turned and hurried off East into the woods. The chubby man stood there, with his ability to move and speak momentarily lost. He pointed in the direction of the cloaked man, his hand shaking slightly.

“It’s that guy.” His voice was full of shock, but loud enough for bystanders to hear him and turn around sharply. “It’s Him!”

* * *

Marcos commanded his best men to get up, as he quickly rinsed the blood off of his sword and armour. He was slightly out of breath, as he ran all the way from the Valley of Graves just before Viren made his speech, once he found out that the princes weren’t present. Too many coincidences happened today that Marcos did not appreciate in the slightest.

Firstly one of the elves infiltrated the castle way before the attack and then wasn’t present during it. The two guards that were found unconscious earlier told that she was chasing Prince Callum.

Secondly, sometime later, Callum returned trying to tell something urgent to the King, only to be stopped and hurt by Lord Viren. In their conversation a secret passageway and an egg was mentioned.

Thirdly, Lord Viren acted suspiciously during the funeral, having had a heated debate with Opeli. She later refused to light the coffin to burn the body, as per funeral traditions, so Viren ordered Claudia to use Dark Magic to light it instead.

Finally, the princes were missing, along with the elf that spared him. Marcos was sure he didn’t see her during the skirmish, as those violet eyes were forever etched in his memory, neither was her body found in the hallways. In any case, whether all three of them were simply gone or if the princes were kidnapped by the elf, Marcos couldn’t be sure, meaning he would have to search the Banther Lodge to definitively conclude anything. Marcos was determined to ensure they were safe, it was the least he could do after he failed to protect King Harrow.

Marcos finally cleaned the blood off and headed for the exit, but to his horror, he found that none of the soldiers got up. He tried to force them to get up again, but to no avail. The soldiers were sleepy and disinterested.

“Do none of you care about the wellbeing of our princes?” Marcos shouted bewildered by the behaviour of his soldiers.

“Shut up, pipsqueak!” One of the soldiers grumbled harshly. “Of course we don’t, one’s a useless nothing who got the title because his mother married King Harrow, the other one is still too young to rule. So get to bed…”

“Fine,” Marcos tried to compose himself, as he was bitter with how poor this behaviour was. “I guess I’ll deal with you later.” He was going on his own… again.

“I doubt that, even though you’re a commander, you are still the youngest one in this section. Elders don’t take commands from breast-fed younglings,” mumbled his second-in-command.

Marcos ignored those words as he stormed towards his horse. He was furious that yet again no one supported him and he was left on his own. Did no one see how grave the situation was or did they think he was only trying to exercise his command over them?

Marcos saw the first sun rays rising from the horizon. At last, the Moonshadow elves were not at the height of their powers, now everyone stood a chance. He remembered how he managed to persuade the ireful Soren not to execute Runnan, keeping him as a prisoner instead. That elf was a tough nut to crack, as he refused to answer any questions anyone asked him. Marcos shook his head, as he felt his mind was drifting.

 _Focus on the task at hand!_ He told himself. _Princes… Banther Lodge_.

It was getting lighter as the sun now started to peek from the East. Marcos got up on his horse and galloped into the woods towards the Banther Lodge.

* * *

It was at these moments Callum cursed his artistic ability. His mind was able to recreate any moment, any scene with a high degree of accuracy with a simple glance. It showed as much when he drew it in his sketchbook, but it was also displayed through vivid imagery in his head… and dreams were no exceptions. That night plagued him with horrible nightmares, that were all filled with crimson red colours, it was all he could see: the banners, the blood, himself and the world drowning in it.

He got up really early, even before Rayla did, as sunlight began to lick his face through the leaves above him. Despite him still feeling tired, he refused to go back to sleep. He had enough. It seemed this time that reality was for once better than whatever went on in his head, even though he wished for both of them to not be true. He was getting irritated that all he could imagine around him was death and destruction under a microscope of absurd uncertainty – nothing felt safe or even remotely normal. It was as though as the world he thought he knew was scrapped, crumpled, turned inside out and thrown back at him by some unknown entity and he felt helpless and weak to interfere, let alone stop this.

At least the one good thing that came out of this reality check was that he discovered himself in a new light, a new purpose – he could be a mage. In fact, Callum forgot about his weariness and grogginess and walked towards a tree with intent to capture the essence of the orb he had possession of. He drew when he was angry, but he was so fed up with trying to wrestle the uncontrollable, than instead he focused on the positives that were right in front of him. Puppy like excitement and elation washed over his anger as he sat at the root of that tree, whipped out his sketchbook and began to draw the orb as he saw it, capturing the thunderstorm within it.

 _Look at that lightning!_ It slightly lit the entire orb and maybe it even could light the area around, if it wasn’t so bright. It was a shame he couldn’t replicate muffled thunder on paper. Instead he wondered how Claudia did that thunder spell earlier. He would remind himself to try it out later as he fully focused on the rowing. His pencil glided across the page, translating all of this newfound energy within him into his fingers, hand and wrist, as the tip rarely left the surface of the page. The lines within the drawn orb all varied in tone, thickness and length, chaotically trying to outdo one another on Callum’s sketchbook, proving once again Callum’s artistic prowess.

The time flew by, but once again Callum could only concentrate on the book in front of him whilst occasionally glancing at the orb beside him. He lost everything that was around him and his oblivion was evident when Rayla, who finally got up, failed to get his attention, whilst standing right in front of him.

“Hey!” Callum finally was brought back into the realm of the living as he glanced up at her, surprised. “That’s your name right, Callum? Clem? Or was it Camel?” Rayla looked at him playfully and smirked slightly, satisfied with her own tease.

“It’s Callum.” He responded rather deadpan. “I get lost sometimes, sorry.” He explained. Rayla sat beside him looking at his drawing. Although she didn’t admit it, she was impressed with his ability. It was accurate and the amount of detail he put into it, almost made it look like a perfect copy. Callum looked back at his drawing. “I was so excited to draw this primal orb thingy and try and capture the thunderstorm within it… I’m still trying to get it to look better.”

“Primal Stone.” Rayla corrected him, looking fairly puzzled. Firstly, she didn’t see how Callum could possibly improve upon his drawing. Secondly, and most importantly, how did he not know the name of the Archmages’ most desired possession? Then again, he only discovered that he was a mage yesterday. “Do you know anything about magic?”

“Errr,” Callum elongated, “You’re not going to test me are you?”

Rayla stretched her hand signalling to Callum to pass her the book and the pencil. Callum obliged. Rayla turned over to a new page and began to scribble the symbols for each Primal Source. Her lines were all uniform and thin, almost looking sharp and pointy. Rayla spoke as she drew.

“The six original, purest and most powerful sources of magic - the Primal Sources: The Sun, which is all fiery and energetic; The Stars… this one is kinda boring, because no one saw it in ages and the creatures are all rare; The Earth, comes from either the rocks or fauna and flora of the world; The Ocean, I hate this one…”

“Why?” Callum asked. Rayla gave him a glare that discouraged him from pressing her about it.

“I will not mention anything more on the matter, we’re leaving it at that.” Her face turned immediately softer as she moved on. “The Moon, the coolest one out there,” definitely an unbiased opinion right there, “… and the one that you’ve got trapped in that Primal Stone…” Rayla tapped the surface with the pencil, encouraging Callum to finish her sentence.

“…The Air.”

“These…” Rayla almost didn’t notice it. She lightly shoved him, slightly exasperated, although charmed by his lack of knowledge. “Not ‘The Air’, you dumb human, The Sky!” Callum quickly gave an apologetic look. Rayla relaxed a little, reminding herself that Callum was completely new to this. “Primal Stones are rare and sought after by the most powerful Archmages, because in order to perform a spell you need the Primal Energy to be available. My magical power is affected by the Lunar cycle. The Sunfire elf would struggle to cast spells at night, surprise, surprise. Primal Stones allow you to always perform magic even if the energy is unavailable. In your case, you’ve got a real thunderstorm trapped within that Primal Stone, affectively bypassing the need for a stormy or windy weather to perform more powerful spells.” Rayla passed the book with the pencil back, when Callum gave her the nod that he understood her. “And now somehow, you have one…”

Callum looked at the symbols of Primal Magic that Rayla drew. His eyes lit up immediately and he jumped up. “Wait, I’ve seen these ones before. On a little cube in the Banther Lodge!”

“Neat.” Rayla said blankly, concerned with all of this excitement that glowed from Callum.

“What if it’s magic? We have to go and get it!”

“What? No!” Rayla got up shocked from Callum’s suggestion, “We have an important mission! You know: get to Xadia, return the egg, stop the war…”

“Xadia is to the East, right? So is the Banther Lodge, it’s right on our path!”

Rayla was certainly not convinced. “Yay! Let’s go to a human house, that’s crawling with humans who are looking to kill me and just _looking_ for you!”

“It’s a winter residence! It’s spring now, so there won’t be any humans in the _winter_ lodge! No winter – no humans!” Callum argued. Rayla looked away from him, clearly annoyed and still unconvinced. Callum sighed, he had only one more thing to tell her that might be able to convince her, but… look at her! She wouldn’t understand him! How could she? She is this prolific, amazing, back-flipping and cool assassin and she made everything look so easy to do. In fact, it probably came naturally and easy, maybe even like an instinct for her. Callum, on the other hand, as a prince was supposed to be at least half as good as her when it came to the ‘Art of Swordsmanship’, but he wasn’t even able to do a fraction of what she could. Seeing how easy it came to Rayla, absolutely destroyed Callum. She constantly succeeded, while he constantly failed. Two different planets and a gulf divided them – how could she even possibly see anything from his perspective? That was ignoring the very obvious complication that he was a human and she was an elf – different cultures, ideas, beliefs…

Callum began waving white flags before he even spoke, but he had to try one last time. “Look, Rayla,” his voice was slightly defeated and lowered, but genuine, as he gazed away from Rayla back towards Katolis with a slight pained look. “As a prince you’re expected to be good at certain things: leadership, sword fighting, horse riding… but I was never good at anything… I was… nothing really. So when I tried to do that spell back there, I thought I would mess it up. It would backfire or I would end up covered in spiders… but it worked! And then you called me a mage… and it felt so right. I never felt like that before. I just thought that cube could help me.”

“Callum?” That was Ezran’s voice. Callum quickly turned to face him. “I had this weird dream…”

“Ezran,” Callum approached him and kneeled beside him. “That was all real.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Wow, I really ate the ears of a giant taffy hippopotamus?”

“Oh, no… _that_ was a dream. I thought you meant the elves, magic, the egg – that was all real!”

“Hey, Sad Prince.” Rayla’s voice was soft. “Let’s go get your cube.”

“Really?”

“Yes, on one… no, two conditions.” Callum eyes radiated surprise and excitement, he was ready to agree even without hearing Rayla’s conditions. “No more detours and no more heartfelt speeches.”

* * *

Claudia stood in front of an oval and exquisite mirror, defeated and lost.

 _How could it have not worked?_ She thought to herself.

“Do you really think I haven’t tried that spell?” Viren entered the room, rather impressed with how quickly Claudia was learning Dark Magic spells, especially as advanced as this one was. Surely her star will shine brighter than his one day? Viren stood right beside her. “Over the last four months, I have tried eight different reveal spells, all to no avail.”

“Dad, I’m sure we’ll crack that mirror. Which, by the way, I totally don’t fully get. Why were you trying spells on it?”

“You see, on the fateful day me and King Harrow went to slay Thunder, we took some of the possessions that belonged to the Dragon King and Queen. This mirror was in their chambers, always kept close to them even when they slept. I think it’s more than just a mirror.”

“Right, that makes sense.”

“What doesn’t make sense is that, anything I try I am constantly left standing looking at myself - A failed fool.”

“Dad, you’re not a failure…”

“So I’m foolish then?” They laughed a little.

“No, of course not!” Claudia said through her chuckle, before her face turned more serious and became rather uneasy. “Dad, at the end of that funeral, after you asked me to light the fire and burn the coffin, you said that the princes were dead. Is Cal…” she stopped herself, holding back a little tear. “Are they actually dead?”

“I don’t really know, Claudia.” His voice was unusually soft and warm. “Their bodies are missing and we’ve dealt with the most vile and the worst kind of elves out there. I simply assumed the worst.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “We must remain strong!”

“It’s just I found Callum’s backpack; he left it in his bedroom. Ezran’s, on the other hand, was missing…”

“If they were kidnapped, then I doubt they are alive anymore.”

“The egg and the Primal Stone are missing too…”

“One at a time, Claudia.” Viren cut her off. Claudia obeyed and fell silent, she believed her dad knew what he was doing and trusted his judgement. “Right now, the most important thing is that we recover as quickly as possible. We are incredibly weakened by the tragedy that took place yesterday and an empty throne is a beacon of weakness and a mark of dark times falling upon us. That’s why we must have a coronation tonight!” Viren then quickly added. “I will also be able to authorise a search party for the egg.”

“You will protect us, dad, won’t you?” Claudia stated reassuringly.

“I will, it’s the least I can do for the people…for Harrow. I will lead Katolis and humanity out of the darkness that surrounds us. It will not be easy and I will have to make tough and terrible choices, but perhaps I will have easier and more of a fruitful time than with this mirror… and our prisoner.”

“He still hasn’t eaten or spoken?”

“No, and the binding around his arm seems to be getting a little tighter.”

* * *

Rayla scratched her wrist a little, it was getting noticeably tight, but not uncomfortable. There were a couple of times where she felt like Callum, who was slightly behind her, was staring at her. She turned to look at him, but his glance would evade hers, instead looking at Ezran and Bait. In reality Callum got a little curious of that binding of hers, but when she gave a rather cold look a second time he was caught, he was put off from looking at it again. He thought it was best not to annoy her.

Callum did however feel a little tense, this entire situation was so… unconventional, to put it lightly. Sure, Rayla seemed warm, friendly, even a little jokey with them, but she was an elf. He got told many horrible things about elves and so far they have been proven wrong, but that didn’t calm Callum down. Instead he felt slightly on edge, as he didn’t know what to expect anymore. What was real? What was a lie? What was right about elves? What was wrong? Callum had this nagging feeling that she could steal the egg, when they were asleep and. If they were lucky, they would be left stranded in The Human Kingdoms. Otherwise she could backstab them in Xadia or just outright kill them. She was an assassin after all.

The awkward silence engulfed their journey, which Callum finally began to sense, as his thoughts became unbearably loud to him. Thankfully, they got interrupted by Ezran.

“Can I…”

“No.” Rayla cut him off, focusing on the road ahead of her.

“But I’m…”

“We’ll have food later.”

“I was going to say thirsty.”

“Fine, drink this.” Rayla grabbed a see-through flask that had dark red liquid in it. Callum quickly held Ezran off with his arm.

“No thanks.” He spoke nervously, feeling the sweat overcome his forehead. “We don’t drink… that.” Rayla looked perplexed and lost for words, Callum decided against his better judgement to elaborate. “Blood. We don’t drink blood. I’m sorry if that…”

“It’s Moonberry juice.” Rayla interrupted. “You humans surely drink fruit juices, right?” Ezran sniffed the liquid within the flask, his face immediately confirming to Callum that it was Moonberry juice, and took a little sip. “Is that what humans think of us?” Rayla asked bitterly as she put the flask away. “That we are bloodthirsty creatures?”

“No, no, of course not.” Callum stammered. He wished he could stop himself to prevent this situation from becoming more and more awkward and tense, but the words just kept coming out of his mouth. “I mean I heard stories, some horrible… awful… terrible stories,” he really should have shut his mouth, as he noticed Rayla’s shoulders drop and her face become more strained. “… oh look we’re already here!” Callum was saved even more blushes when the grand and empty wooden building appeared before them.

The Banther Lodge looked understandably abandoned, since no one was here for months. Callum, eager to change the subject, smugly said: “See, no winter – no humans!”

“Ugh, okay, tell me where this cube thingy is?”

“Games room, it should look something like this.” Callum replied instantly, as he turned around and used Ezran’s backpack as a placeholder for his sketchbook to quickly draw the room. “It’s in this chest right here. Got it?”

“Yeah, I’ll be in and out.” She clearly noticed Callum’s smugness and decided to show-off herself, as she jumped off of walls to climb on the roof of the lodge, doing backflips and tricks in the process. There was such lightness to her movement and the ease with which she did everything, it was as though as she toyed with the idea of gravity. It enticed the princes’ eyes, entertaining their otherwise awkward start to a day. Her prowess was incredible and it showed.

As soon as she entered the Lodge through an open window above the main entrance, Callum and Ezran sat up against the tree, just off to the side, awaiting her return.

“See I told her, that there would be no humans here.” Callum finally was at ease when she left, lifting the heaviness of a tense and awkward interaction. Unfortunately for Callum, that easiness would not last too long.

“That is a little weird though.” Ezran pointed out.

“Why?”

“Weren’t we supposed to be sent away to the Banther Lodge? Surely they would need to check-up on us?”

Callum’s eyes widened. He clearly didn’t think this entirely through… and just right on cue, to his horror, he saw a small group of soldiers marching from the woods, led by three people on horseback. “Coming here was a mistake!” Callum admitted almost instantly as the thoughts raced in his head. They were all well-armoured and equipped.

Intimidated, but ultimately determined to help, Callum took Ezran by his hand and did the first thing that came to his mind. They ran to the main entrance of the Banther Lodge.

“We need to warn Rayla somehow… buy her some time.” Callum explained. They tried to open the double door, but fate was cruel to them; it was locked. All they had left was to bashfully stand in front of it, rooted to the spot, trying to hide the panic and nervousness that was boiling over within them. The army halted, as the three leaders galloped towards them.

 _C’mon, you need to make something up Callum._ He told himself. _Okay… back straight… smile like there’s not a single care in the world… act like there is not an elf assassin in a nearby radius… or that we are carrying a potentially war ending egg of the Dragon King we thought was a weapon…_

The three men got off their horses and approached the two princes. Callum had to come up with an excuse to prevent them from entering and why they were outside the Lodge.

“Door! Yeah! Locked!” He blurted out without thinking. That sure confused them, enough for them to take their helmets off to reveal very familiar faces.

“Aunt Amaya!” Ezran lit up with joy, but didn’t run and hug her, still nervous from this whole situation. Amaya replied back with a such a wide and soft smile, that ever her scar on her cheek seemed to be smiling. Her brown eyes were speaking more than words ever could. She couldn’t hear or speak, which is why she always had Commander Gren by her side, who was also a sign language interpreter.

Gren was a young commander, ever the optimist as a smile never seemed to leave his face. His light hair, blue eyes and freckles seemed fitting and deceiving at once, as he was both soft-hearted and earnest. Nevertheless, despite being a commander, Callum never saw Gren wield a sword, instead approaching any situation diplomatically. Callum appreciated that trait in Gren, slightly wishing he himself could be as good with words as Gren was, because Callum was practically inept with a sword. As for the third person…

“Marcos?” Callum was deeply surprised. Marcos simply gave a sigh of relief and a little smirk, still wondering how or whether he should break the news to them. He strongly considered the possibility that they still didn’t even know.

“I rode from Katolis to check-up on your safety and as you can see I ran into General Amaya’s army heading the same direction.”

“Boys, I’m so glad you’re all save.” General Amaya spoke through Gren.

“Yes we are, all very safe… all three of us.” Callum blurted out again. Ezran shot him a look of panic, as Callum gulped, realising what he just said. The adults looked at them suspiciously.

“ _All three of you?_ ” General Amaya signed. Callum knew sign language, unlike Ezran who only started learning recently, but what Callum failed to learn and was definitely incorrigible at, was stopping himself from saying whatever came to mind under stressful situations. Instead of just saying he misspoke, he had to dig himself a hole and make it more difficult for himself.

“Yeah… me… Ezran… and…” Callum started unconvincingly not easing the adults’ suspicions and alertness, then he finished the sentence as quickly as he came up with a solution. “And Bait!” The adults now looked confused.

“ _Since when have you started counting Bait?_ ” General Amaya signed.

“Well, ever since he was unhappy when I left him out.” Callum replied truthfully.

“Which is last night.” Ezran added.

General Amaya shook her head and signed: “ _Now, about that door._ ” She marched towards the locked door and…

 _Bash!_ With a simple kick, it was open.

The Lodge was quiet and dusty, showing no signs of anyone being here recently… but General Amaya had an eye like no other. She saw that window above the entrance and the fact that it wasn’t closed was a massive red flag for her. Callum and Ezran hastily followed the adults behind them.

“ _Someone is here.”_ General Amaya let her thoughts known.

Panic spread through Callum like wildfire, as he quickly got around the adults and stood right in front of them, stopping them from going in any further. He spoke so loudly he was almost shouting: “No! No! It’s just us! Us and a massive military… human army outside!”

“ _Callum, you know that doesn’t work or help,_ ” General Amaya was referring to herself. Her suspicions were escalating even further. “ _And why are you saying ‘human’ like that?_ ”

“Yeah, yeah! Massive well-equipped military militias… people…soldiers,” Callum continued to speak loudly, clearly not realising how his behaviour added to the suspicion. After a tense pause, he spoke normally. “I’m just pointing out the facts, you know?” Callum gave a nervous laugh and looked at Ezran, pleading him to do something.

“Oh, Aunt Amaya, I thought I’d let you know, but I skipped breakfast today.” Ezran announced innocently. General Amaya, wide-eyed, turned to Ezran and crouched down to his level. Her eyes were firm.

“ _Breakfast is the most important meal of the day!_ ” She got up and ordered Marcos to get the troops to make camp, while her and Gren led the boys to the kitchen.

Callum was wondering where Rayla was, as he felt really uncomfortable with the situation he put them in. Just before entering the kitchen, Callum looked around. He thought she might have hid behind a column or on a beam up in the ceiling… there she was, looking down at him, vexed and unimpressed. He instantly averted his eyes from her gaze and caught up with the rest, taking a seat with Ezran at the table, as though nothing was wrong.

While Gren and General Amaya searched the cupboards through cobwebs and dust, Callum was left to mull over ideas and thoughts regarding this sticky situation. After a while, General Amaya sat at the table with them, with similarly underwhelming results. She handed over an uninviting and stale looking bread, that she even regarded to be weapons grade, but that was all they had and she insisted that Ezran had some food. While Ezran struggled to eat it, Callum inquired her aunt: “So, what are you doing here?” He was composed for the first time since their arrival.

“ _I’ve received a letter from King Harrow._ ” Callum narrowed his eyes as something jogged in his memory.

“Oh, he also gave me one,” in all the panic and rush, he forgot his backpack, with the letter still in it, back in his room. “What did yours say?”

“ _It requested that I, with some of my forces, left The Border and headed to the Banther Lodge, for reasons that are obvious._ ”

“Assassins.”

“ _Moonshadow elves,_ ” General Amaya added. “ _The worst of ‘their’ kind. Vile and horrible monsters._ ” Once Gren stopped translating, for Ezran’s sake, he also nodded in agreement. If that was true then Callum and Ezran were lucky that they had met the exception to that rule, but it took a lot of effort for both of them not to argue with her. They glanced at each other and without any words spoken, understood each other – they needed to get away and somehow find Rayla.

* * *

Rayla, with great difficulty, navigated the Lodge, constantly evading guards. There were a couple of close calls, but Runnan taught her well. She shuddered at the thought of him. They were close – him and Ethari looked after her at her parent’s absence and… then practically became foster parents for her. She wondered if Runnan was alive, however she was deeply infuriated by his short-sightedness and his inability to be flexible during the mission. She felt torn… almost betrayed, that after everything, he still tried to snub a chance at peace and the prince’s help. He even produced his swords at Callum. However, she also couldn’t shake off the feeling that she was the one who betrayed and let him down. After all, wasn’t the mission the most important thing, not matter what happened?

Eventually, her fury turned into annoyance and it shifted to Callum, at the mere thought of him. _Relax, Rayla, no winter – no humans._ Rayla sarcastically thought to herself. _It will be fine, he said. Ugh, humans…_

She finally managed to find the Games room, as she quickly checked for guards and closed the door. Just like the rest of The Lodge, the Games room was dusty and had a hint of wealth, but not at obnoxious levels that were common with human royalty and nobility. It felt slightly small and very much cosy, like any home should, like her home did…

She quickly got her attention back at the task at hand, as she produced Callum’s drawing. She blinked in shock, as she lined up the sketch with the room she was in – it was perfect, the chairs were at the exact place facing the fireplace, the shield on the wall, the wooden pole and the chests…

She walked towards the one slightly to the side, the one Callum claimed stored the cube. Rayla could easily imagine the smugness in Callum’s grin regarding the picture. _It’s okay._ She conceded with slight sarcasm.

Rayla opened the chest and it was full of just keys, or so she thought at first. Buried beneath them was the cube with the symbols of Primal Magic on each of it sides. Callum was right on this occasion, but the cube looked like a toy to her from a children’s game. She risked her life for this?!

Begrudgingly, she still took it, but her annoyance only grew towards Callum. She sighed trying to calm herself down, but was immediately panicking once she saw that a shadow was towering beside her. She quickly ducked to the side, as the table in front of her met her fate instead, split in two. She got her swords out and faced the human that snuck up on her. She had brown eyes and hair, with a little scar on her cheek. Sword in one hand and a massive shield, with a small gap at the top, in the other. She moved surprisingly quick with her equipment, as Rayla was forced to dodge and be pushed back. Rayla hesitated to parry or block as anything that was behind Rayla when she dodged would evaporate instantaneously from her unstoppable blows. It surprised Rayla that this human didn’t shout for help, but the noise was giving them away anyway and would certainly attract attention. Was she reluctant to shout because she wanted an honourable duel? It didn’t quite make sense, because only a few seconds ago Rayla was unsuspecting and the human was content with killing her quietly?

The wooden pole was now also destroyed and even though some heavy fragments collapsed on the human, she seemed unmoved. Rayla wondered what could even stop this human; she never made a pained noise, let alone halt to recover. But then she stopped… and sheathed her sword. With her free hand she beckoned Rayla to come at her. It seemed that overconfidence would be the answer to Rayla’s question… only regarding herself. She leapt at her, but instead of her blades meeting the target, her stomach met the target’s boot.

She flew backwards, her head and back colliding with the wall. Dazed she tried to get up, but was instead held up by her opponent. The next thing she knew she was hanging on the wall, as her opponent’s shield pierced the wall behind, her neck uncomfortably held between the gap. Rayla attempted to wedge the shield out, but no matter how hard she tried, the attempts were futile. Right now, she definitely preferred to be held up by the arrows than a shield.

Her focus shifted to her opponent as she unsheathed her sword, her stone cold eyes gave away her next move – she was about to execute Rayla, decapitate, most likely. Now Rayla understood exactly what she saw in the spared soldier’s eyes, and in Callum’s… those exact same emotions washed over her, but even though she was already dead, according to the culture of Moonshadow elves, which made it easier to accept her inevitable death, she was scared. For a fraction of a second she was scared for herself, but then it mostly shifted towards the fact that she was failing her mission once again. How would the human princes be able to deliver the egg now? Have the chances at peace fleeted before her? Was the war inevitable?

The door slashed open, as a soldier grabbed the attention of the human.

“General Amaya, the princes are missing!”

Rayla was totally lost. What could have happened to them? She looked back at General Amaya, only for her face to meet her iron fist. The cold darkness consumed her consciousness.

* * *

“They got her Callum.” Ezran concluded what he overheard from the guards’ conversation.

“It’s all my fault, we shouldn’t have come here.” Callum sighed, his shoulders dropping. “Are you sure they won’t find us here?”

“Well, I’ve only found this attic last winter and you never seen it before. I don’t think the guards will find us up here, not soon anyway.”

“How are we going to get her out?” Callum was a little desperate, he clearly had been thinking about it for a while and it didn’t yield any results.

“Well,” Ezran spoke hesitantly. “I think we should just tell her.”

“What?” Callum was confused.

“We should tell Aunt Amaya that she is on our side, that she’s not the enemy. Tell her about the mission.”

“No, absolutely not, did you not hear what she said? She hates elves, there is no way we’ll convince her!”

“But we’ve got proof!” Ezran reached for his backpack and produced The Dragon Egg out of it. “We can show them this! I’m sure our aunt will understand us!”

“Ez, do you remember how well it went the last time we tried to convince someone we were on the same side?” Ezran dropped his head slightly. Callum had a point. “I don’t think we can trust our aunt. She hates elves and even if she lets us go to complete the mission, I don’t think she’ll let us do it with Rayla. It is a huge risk, to tell our aunt, and we have no guarantee she won’t tell anyone else about it nor if she will react well to this.”

“You’re right.” Ezran conceded sullenly. “Our best chance is to stick together and keep it between ourselves.”

“I’m glad you understand,” Callum was relieved. “So how the two of us are going to free Rayla?”

“Two of us?” Ezran gave a mischievous smirk, as he looked to the side. “I think we need a hand with this.”

* * *

_I am an elf; I am no liar – you’re all humans; you are the liars._ Marcos reflected upon General Amaya’s interrogation of the elf, as he wandered into the forest nearby. It was dusk and the soldiers were chatting loudly by the campfire. It was too loud and chaotic and Marcos needed to be able to at least hear his own thoughts.

… _I am no liar…_ That statement that the captured elf said, echoed in his mind more and more. She obviously meant it as a snarky remark, trying to unsettle General Amaya first and foremost, but something else unintentionally came across… solely to him. It was almost an act of desperation; she was backed into a corner.

 _I am an elf…_ The reason why that remark worked on him and not the rest was that they saw her as different, something below them and not worth time considering or reflecting – an ‘ _other’_ , incapable and undeserving of reason or understanding. Marcos understood however that General Amaya’s main priority were the princes, whom she is very protective of and who were missing.

 _…you are the liars._ Despite that, Marcos was fully aware of her emotional capability, that could be compared to a human and was scarily absent from the people who were in that room. That was almost impossible and unbelievable to think to have come from an elf, but Marcos experienced it first-hand.

 _…_ we _are all humans…_? He wasn’t sure if he saw her as equal, but at the very least comparable, relatable; they were on an equal playing field. It made him confused to think that he was being sympathetic to that elf, even when he was taught to never be. It tore him inside. That built up his irritation, as one of the things that General Amaya wrongfully called the elf out for lying was that she didn’t believe her when the elf said that she was alone. He should have stood up for her, confirmed that she wasn’t lying, because he knew the rest of her squad were either dead or captured. He always stood up for others, but the last time he did that and most importantly mentioned an elf in a good light, backfired as he was laughed at and misunderstood. Unfortunately for him no one else was there to confirm what had happened, he was… _alone_.

Something grabbed him and a hand covered his mouth, pulling him into the bush next to him. It seemed to Marcos that fate wasn’t going to spare his life after all, but to his surprise no blade went over his neck and he wasn’t being hurt. In fact he felt five fingers on the stranger’s hands. The surprises however kept on coming, as the grab slowly loosened.

“Oh, Marcos, you didn’t learn. I’ve told you many times to never travel alone in a non-friendly environment,” it was that familiar, brisk, silky and velvety voice.

“Fran…” the hand shot back over his mouth stopping him from finishing His name out loud.

“Sssh, do you want to let the whole Lodge know I’m here!?”

 _So He was aware of that strange folklore._ Marcos thought.

“I already caused a scene in Katolis. I don’t want to cause any mess here.”

Marcos continued in a slightly lowered tone, as he turned to face a very old friend. “How do you know that shouting your name has become a common way to yell for help or as a sign of trouble?”

“I do not approve of that,” it was said rather curt with a hint of exasperation. “I do not want my name to become associated with trouble. Why can’t they just get that I’m not more special than them?”

“You’re not answering my question.”

“Let’s just say things spread very easily around Western Xadia.”

“It’s still just called The Human Kingdoms,” it was less of a correction from Marcos and more of a remark.

“It’s still Xadia, this entire continent is all Xadia. Why does no one see that or still refuse to see that?” He waved His hands around unhappily. Marcos finally paid slightly more attention to the man in front of him, but was immediately distracted by a very obvious problem.

“So I see your head now is weighed down by hair as well, not just mostly of what is inside of it.” Marcos teased him slightly.

“Is it that bad?” He asked. Marcos nodded. “I refuse to cut it without a mirror. Reflections in rivers aren’t reliable enough for me.”

“You also need a shave.” Marcos added, but he wasn’t being unkind.

“Look, can we focus on a situation at hand, please, and not how I look?”

“I haven’t seen you in four years! How can I not pay attention to your looks.” They stared at each other, perhaps the passage of time had finally dawned on them. “I can’t believe it, you haven’t really changed.” Marcos mostly focused on His facial features, but from the quick look he was able to get, he could see that He still wore the same green cape He always wore ever since He left. “I mean you look slightly older, especially with that stubble and hair… but you’re still the same? It’s weird to explain, I’m not sure if I’m even making sense…”

“That’s just on the surface, buddy. Just trust me on this one.” He looked a little serious, like He was pondering over something.

Marcos was eager to catch up with his friend. “Where have you been?”

“Travelling.” The reply was put rather bluntly.

“I know, that was obvious, but no one saw you for almost three and a half years…”

“I got to Xadia, _Eastern_ Xadia.”

“You crossed the border?” Marcos’s jaw fell.

“Uh-huh.”

“Twice?”

“Uh-huh.” Marcos was about to continue questioning Him, but He interrupted. “Listen, we don’t have a lot of time. I promise we will have time to catch up over this, later.”

“Another four years? Or maybe just two this time?”

“Hopefully much sooner, I’m…” it was Marcos’s turn to interrupt him.

“Just one more question…” and Marcos continued when He didn’t object. “How was Xadia?”

“ _Eastern_ Xadia.” He pointed out, as His eyes lit up at the mention of it, memories flowing back, but He was able to quickly stop himself, otherwise He would have ranted on for a while. “It will take too long to give a just answer to that question. So short answer – amazing and brimming with magic,” and before Marcos could interrupt, He continued briskly. “I’m here for the princes. They were not at the funeral. Are they here?”

“They were,” Marcos’s face fell a little. “But they are missing again.” He was stupefied by that answer. The princes didn’t leave The Lodge, how could they have lost them?

“What happened?”

“General Amaya captured a Moonshadow elf at the Banther Lodge. She was part of the attack on Katolis and we believe she kidnapped them.”

“Kidnapped and not killed them?” He wondered what an assassin would need the princes for? Moonshadow assassins were rigid and had a flawed, in His opinion, view of life and death. Kidnapping missions by Moonshadow assassins were unheard of, but empathetic and kind Moonshadow _elves_ – not unheard of. It was just beneath their surface, covered by firm oaths and customs.

“That’s right.”

“They didn’t look like hostages to me when you arrived.” They were more panicked to see their ‘saviours’ than before they arrived. There was no relief written in their faces, in fact He swore He saw Prince Ezran hide something in his backpack.

“You followed us I presume.” Marcos deduced. _He really hasn’t changed_. Marcos concluded officially.

“Yep, I ran into your army and followed them, since we were heading the same way.”

Marcos continued to ponder, his mind flooding back with thoughts and memories piecing together a narrative that made sense in his head, but it didn’t.

“Marcos, do you want to fill me in on everything?”

“What do you mean?” Marcos shook his head.

“You think after four years I can forget a good friend of mine.” He smiled. “You did make sense earlier, you too have grown but largely stayed the same, which extends to your brooding state. I still recognise it just as easily as you would recognise mine. Fill me in on everything you know and we’ll both figure it out. Two minds are better than one.”

“You were good with maths.” Marcos gave a kind smile. He said ‘ _we’ll’_ figure it out, but it was usually _Him_ that was able to piece it all together. “Where do I start?”

“From the beginning.” It was His classic response to those sorts of questions, then He added. “But make it quick. Time is of the essence.” Marcos quickly recited what had happened to him, about the elf that spared him, the scene with Viren and the interrogation…

“That is very interesting,” He said. “How she claimed that they came with her willingly.” Although what really peaked His interest was the mention of the egg and the reaction it caused from Prince Callum and Lord Viren, but His focus needed to be elsewhere. “Considering the princes were more tense when you arrived and haven’t left The Lodge this entire time, it might not be too far-fetched.”

“Right,” it was hard to believe for Marcos, but the things he knew about elves have been proven wrong these past few days. However the safety of the princes was more important. “But how are we going to find them?”

“Well, I have an idea, but you’re not going to like it,” He shrugged his shoulders. Marcos sighed, he knew too well about the boldness of His plans. “I just have a feeling that there is something bigger at play here.”

“When don’t you feel like there’s something bigger beneath the surface level.” Marcos certainly missed having conversations like this with Him. His friend loved to go above and beyond, even though it annoyed Marcos how difficult it made things. He was right about countless times, making things worth it and work out in the end. The reward for their boldness was intoxicatingly sweet, no matter the risk and ridicule…

“I suggest you break her out.” That that was something new.

“What?” He wasn’t joking. Marcos’s jaw dropped, he forgot how far He was willing to go sometimes. “That is bonkers, even for you!”

“Hey, I’m crazy, but I’m not mad. She hasn’t killed them and I believe she won’t. Even though they’re not acting like hostages, them being alive is crucial for her survival. Setting her free will lead to the princes, I’m sure of it,” Marcos hesitated.

“It’s a risk…,”but He cut him off.

“If anything goes South, I’ll handle it, you know I can,” Marcos knew He was the Prodigy of the Human Kingdoms. They even claimed He was the greatest swordsman out there, albeit a little too early, but Marcos trusted Him. “Besides she’s a Moonshadow elf and I know quite a bit about them. I will be able to predict her every single move,” He said firmly, but not arrogantly. Marcos was still uneasy, as he would have to be the one to free the elf. “Look Marcos, I have a really good feeling about this. It’s a safe bet and by far the least risky thing we can do. I am confident about this, all I ask is that you have faith.”

Marcos sighed, people were right to compare Him to a nail. “You really do make your own holes to fit into anything,” both of them chuckled for a little, neither of them mentioning how many holes in other’s argument He could see and expose. “I guess I do owe her my life.” Marcos got up and was about to leave, but He grabbed his hand to stop him.

“You know what, prepare a boat. I’ll have easier time following them and they will get away from the army quicker.” He insisted. Marcos nodded.

“It’s good to see you.”

“It’s really good to see you too.” He pondered and then added. “Do send my regards to your father, it was nice to chat with him last night, even though I might have shocked him a little once he recognised me following my hasty departure.”

“I will,” Marcos haven’t heard of that incident last night before He mentioned it. “Did you plan, like you always do, to cause a scene in Katolis?”

He grinned having being caught red handed. “Not this time.”

* * *

“How awful can it be to live your lives with only four fingers.” Rayla quipped at the three guards who were messing with her swords. She mockingly waved her fingers at them, as her hands were tied above her. The guards were rather relaxed and unresponsive, clearly not giving much attention to her or rather what she said.

Rayla kept obsessing over ways to get out, not sure of what was the right thing to do. Outright telling them that the princes came with her willingly was shot down instantaneously by the humans and that was the truth. Lying would only make things difficult and telling the whole truth could compromise their mission. She figured out that the only reason she was still alive was that Callum and Ezran were missing and she wasn’t sure where they have gone. What were they planning to do anyway? She could imagine Callum doing his cute blow spell and ruffling their hair a little, they certainly could do with a hairstyle after they took their helmets off.

The soldiers continued to chat lively between each other, having put Rayla’s swords to the side. One of them mentioned about what breakfast they had and how bloated they felt, another complained about how this seemingly useless opening in the wall they were standing next to wasn’t made into a fireplace. They continued making useless and stupid conversations, talking about the all-important nothings. Rayla frowned, no wonder these humans were soldiers on guard duty. They were too foolish to do anything other than unquestionably follow orders and they were routine at best at carrying it out. They weren’t foolish enough however to come anyway near her, in range of her legs which the humans decided not to tie up.

Her monotonous environment was interrupted when someone opened the door. She glanced indifferently at the newcomer, but then her eyes widened immediately, as she momentarily froze. It was that soldier, the one she spared. Rayla quickly looked away, trying not to show any emotion nor remind herself of her shortcomings, as she did her best to ignore him and focus on finding a way out.

Marcos felt like a stranger when he entered the room, his movements becoming more and more chained with hesitation. He remained standing close to the exit, some distance away from the rest of the group. Marcos still wasn’t ready to take the risk, even though He had good and well thought out reason behind His suggestion. If Marcos got caught, then he would be imprisoned and more likely executed for treason – it was a huge risk…

The soldiers greeted him completely unsuspecting of his true intentions. To be completely honest, Marcos did not have a plan whatsoever.

 _How does He do it every time? How does He manage to improvise on the spot so well?_ Marcos concentrated on how He told him about situations like these, reflecting on that tournament battle He won singlehandedly, the three versus one turnaround, their sparring…

 _If you have time, wait for the perfect opportunity,_ it was His voice in his head. _Meanwhile, scan your surroundings – look for anything that will give you an advantage in a battle. In an ambush, patience is key._ Marcos was able to calm his nerves a little, as he stood there motionless and wordless, which thankfully no one questioned.

 _If timing is key, then what am I waiting for?_ Marcos questioned himself. He got his answer in a form of a strange noise that came from the opening, a friction noise made by a rope. All of them were looking at the opening in the wall, Marcos even approached the rest of the guards. The noise finally stopped as a tray appeared at the opening… so something or someone must have lowered it. Marcos quickly recognised the grumpy creature sitting in the tray.

“Have you met my friend, Bait?” The elf took advantage. Marcos saw the princes pull this trick on other people, so he knew what was coming, but how did the elf know?

Marcos quickly covered his eyes, as a blinding flash filled the room, followed by the guards stumbling and groaning from the unpleasant experience. This was his chance.

The elf managed to sweep the legs of one of the unfortunate guards who was a little too close to her. She couldn’t hide the surprise on her face, when Marcos quickly walked to the two other guards, shouting: ‘The elf is escaping!’ as he easily put them to sleep with a couple of swift hooks. Marcos sighed, he didn’t enjoy knocking out his own comrades, but it needed to be done and no one would blame him… he hoped.

Marcos looked at Rayla, who was tied up to a pole. She looked at him puzzled and somewhat hopeful. He thought ‘backstabbing’ the guards would be hard to do, but with interference from Bait it was made easier. Surprisingly the easiest thing, simply freeing this elf, became the hardest thing to do; hesitation was still gnawing at him. Even though all the constructs he assumed he knew about elves were being slowly eroded over the last two days.

He picked up her blades.

Was it enough to make such a leap of faith, potentially risking his life, but most importantly the lives of the princes?

He got closer.

She could sweep his legs right now, but it seemed even she didn’t know what to do, as she sat there very still. She stared back at him, mirroring his uncertainty. Marcos’s hand shook slightly, as he battled with himself, torn between doing the right thing and doing what he was taught… no, forced to do. Neither of the choices seemed right, but doing nothing was the easiest, safest bet.

His blades went up to the ropes.

They both forgot to breathe, Rayla in disbelief that a human can not only free an elf, but go against his own people to free her. His eyes, just like Callum’s, gave away his intent – she saw the hesitation and the dilemma that he was battling. Could he dare to do something that seemed so wrong, so against the normal way of life? The silence and the lack of movement made the anticipation of the coming actions unbearable, their weight could crush Marcos’s conscious, just like it already did and was still crushing her. She spared him back in the woods two nights ago. She made the first step, so shouldn’t he have been brave as well and take that step too. It perhaps could deconstruct the normal conceptions they had about each other’s race.

Yet the blades did not budge.

He still couldn’t do it. He was afraid of the consequences, just like he was afraid of them earlier…

“Not _all_ humans are liars,” Marcos finally broke the silence and ran through his memory. “When you spared me. I ran and told about the assassins I spotted in the woods. When High Mage Viren was hurting Prince Callum, I stood up for him, like I usually do in those situations. Told him that, according to what we got taught, he was acting like an elf and you acted like a human,” Rayla wasn’t sure if she should take that as a compliment, but dared not to make any sudden movements. “For telling the truth, I got laughed at. I am sorry for not standing up for you and telling them that you weren’t lying. I was afraid I would get humiliated again.” He dropped his head in shame. Rayla sympathised, but was getting slightly impatient and after a short pause she thought she was expected to say something, but Marcos continued. “If elves are not liars, as you put it, then if I let you go, will the princes be safe?”

“I promise.” Rayla looked him firmly in the eye. “I will protect them with my life, they will be safe. All three of us have agreed to make this journey and all three of us are going to make it, I _will_ make sure of that.”

Slash. The ropes were cut. Marcos handed the swords over to Rayla.

“I’m Marcos, by the way.” He stretched his hand to her to help her up, but Rayla did not take it. She got up briskly and instead shook it.

“Rayla.” She moved to Bait who was waiting impatiently for someone to finally pick him up. Both of them headed towards the door, but it got opened before them. The princes were standing there, rooted to the spot at the scene they were witnessing.

“Relax,” Rayla said. “Marcos helped me out.” Marcos looked at the princes who seemed to have breathed a sigh of relief. “Who came up with the idea to lower Bait?”

“Oh, that was Ezran!” Ezran beamed with pride.

“Will you two be ok?” Marcos asked quickly.

“ _Yeah, we will._ We are in this _together_ ” Callum reassured, albeit a little rushed. Marcos sighed, maybe his decision was right after all and it will pay off?

“There is a boat by the bridge, you’ll know what to do,” Rayla recoiled a little, but no one seemed to have noticed. “Anyways, good luck on your journey and if you excuse me, I must pretend that you have knocked my lights out.”

“I can do it for real, if you want. It won’t be too difficult,” Rayla offered. Marcos snorted.

“I’d rather not, thank you. Although maybe I deserve it, after a couple of close instances where I should’ve paid a higher price. Now go!” Marcos laid face down on the floor. The trio headed out and ran for the exit.

* * *

I felt horrible that I couldn’t be the one to free the elf and had to instead leave everything up to Marcos. On all my crazy plans, ideas and endeavours I always did the riskier and more dangerous parts, but if I was spotted then it would have brought unnecessary amount of attention and would have complicated things to indescribable amounts. As a result it was better for Marcos to do the act, even though I’ve done a perceived act of betrayal before. In the end, I was so relieved that my plan had worked out.

I may have told Marcos that this was ‘the least risky thing’ we could’ve done, but it was still, unfortunately, a gamble. From the beginning I knew that the riskiest thing would be Marcos getting caught in the act and the consequences he could’ve faced. I don’t think he recognised that since the princes were the entire reason he was here and were therefore at the forefront of his mind. Perhaps I should’ve warned him that, but he is a clever lad and he would’ve figured a way out. I know he won’t ask anything in return, we both knew and trusted each other greatly, but I do owe him for his bravery.

As for the princes, I was certain that they were in no danger. If a Moonshadow assassin hadn’t killed them yet, then they weren’t intended to be killed anyway. The princes’ body language told as much… in fact, I was glad that I got to the Lodge slightly earlier to see the princes before their ‘protectors’ came. They were absolutely fine when they were on their own, but trembling at an army that was going to protect them.

Marcos maybe made fun of me for constantly thinking that there was something bigger at play, but the way the princes and the elf ran out of the Lodge… they were comfortable around each other, to a degree. The trio may not have been perfectly fine with each other; they were still in the early stages of getting to know each other, but they felt and looked like a team in the making. So yeah, I did think I was witnessing something bigger going on with them.

I saw them getting surrounded which allowed me to inspect the elf, who I was seeing for the first time, a little closer… or so I thought I was seeing her for the first time. She acted no different, than any other Moonshadow elf would in her situation – blades out and very protective, as she stepped ahead of Prince Callum and Prince Ezran. It was then that I thought she looked very familiar. I remembered observing a training sessions of a slightly younger elf from Silvergrove who looked a lot like her mother… now that elf looked even more like her and was being surrounded by Katolis warriors. Although, did she have her father’s nose and round face? There was a braid in her hair on her right that confirmed for me and represented her recruitment as an assassin… so she did make it after all – her dream goal of becoming an elite warrior, even if becoming an assassin wasn’t the exact end goal… I think. If memory served me correctly, her name was Rayla and right now she would’ve been fifteen years old, a very, very young age to be part of an assassin’s squad. Moonshadow assassins didn’t enlist elves at such a young age; she must’ve been an exceptional fighter. Her stance, footwork and grip at least were top notch at first glance.

General Amaya’s loyal commander, Gren, who was a really lovely man, translated what the general was signing. When she demanded that the princes came back to her, neither of them budged; they were frozen to their spots. It was an absolute miracle that nobody batted an eye at the sea of signs giving away the fact that the princes didn’t want to come back or stay with the Katolis army. Did no one pay attention or did no one bother to pause and deliberate the visual cues in front of them… but I digress. Both of the princes have certainly grown, especially Prince Callum. However, I don’t remember Callum being the one to try and control or manipulate a situation, especially a very tense situation. However he was doing just that when he shouted ‘Stop!’ to the archers, who aimed at Rayla, and began to sign to General Amaya and Commander Gren. This Callum was a far cry from the one earlier, when he was about to dissolve into nothingness from the amount of nerves and pressure he experienced, blurting whatever came to mind first, as he tried to stop General Amaya, Marcos and Gren from entering The Banther Lodge.

Now, I learned sign language as a hobby, when I wasn’t reading, during my childhood – my younger, more innocent days. So I knew what he said and in theory it wasn’t a bad idea. Prince Callum hoped that the army would let them go, because if they didn’t, the elf would kill them ‘and drink their blood’. Now the last part and calling Rayla ‘a monster’ was firstly, not necessary and secondly, a flawed part of Callum’s idea. When Rayla demanded to hear Gren’s translation and once she heard it, she was deeply hurt and taken aback by his words. Clearly she was a bit more sensitive than most Moonshadow elves, but then again she was fifteen. I guess miscommunication and misunderstandings are part of the package in newly formed teams. The whole practical problem with Callum’s idea was that neither him nor Prince Ezran acted as hostages – Rayla was in front of them and had a bit of a gap between them, making her an easy target.

Once General Amaya gave the command, the archers took full advantage of the massive gap. This however allowed Rayla to demonstrate her abilities, as she gracefully blocked the first arrow and dodged the second one… just about. It was getting dark so I wasn’t sure, but after the second arrow, I failed to spot her braid again. Nevertheless, her reactions were very good and she was definitely forging ahead of her peers in terms of speed and agility. In fact she could be on par with fairly skilled and experienced fighters, but I would reserve my judgement until later. Rayla improvised fairly quickly, getting behind the princes and threatening to kill them if they were followed. That was very clever of her, as it would certainly discourage General Amaya to pursue her in great numbers. Unfortunately for Rayla, I would call her bluff on the fact that she would kill the princes, although Prince Callum might have been in trouble for his usage of words.

The soldiers let them go and the trio used a boat Marcos left for them by the bridge to make their escape. I just hope Marcos didn’t see the confrontation, as I would hate for him to think in the heat of the moment that he put the lives of the princes in danger… I didn’t see him throughout it however.

I was about to leave and follow the trio, but my attention shifted to a soldier who just arrived from the West. He galloped straight to General Amaya interrupting her conversation with Gren and another darker skinned soldier who was wearing a scarf and was strangely light on armour. I was too far away to hear the conversation but I was able to read General Amaya’s hands – Lord Viren was about to get coronated as Lord Protectorate of the realm of Katolis. He must’ve thought the princes were dead and I didn’t blame him, Moonshadow assassins didn’t usually kidnap people. I didn’t agree with Viren’s views, especially on Eastern Xadia, and his ‘creative solutions’, as he put it, but he could be a good and efficient leader. He could make tough decisions and he didn’t shy away from them, but I felt that sometimes the way he strove towards his goals were questionable and ends didn’t justify the means. In fact, hearing his name always left me with a grey and weighty feeling in my stomach.

General Amaya was certainly unhappy with those news, her nephews were alive and she intended to stop the coronation. I on the other hand was going to follow the boat and make sure that the elf didn’t actually hurt or kill the princes.

* * *

The moon was covered by the clouds and the boat slowly flowed with the river, its journey covered with darkness. Ezran remained silent, sitting as still as the river around him. He wasn’t fond of the darkness that surrounded them and obscured their vision, but Bait’s occasional glow made it somewhat bearable. Ezran looked to his brother, who was lying and leaning up against the side of the boat, and searched something in him. All he could see was a sign of relief, as Callum’s relaxed and open body was tinged with satisfaction, but it was not what he was looking for or hoped to find.

Ezran felt Bait turn in his hands looking at him, perhaps he was just as confused and split as he himself was. They may have been alive, but that entire incident with the Banther Lodge nearly cost Rayla’s life. Ezran looked down to regard Bait, but it was then he realised that Bait wasn’t looking at him. Ezran felt Bait’s concerns creeping into his mind, as he looked behind him. Near the front of the boat, Rayla sat curled and closed in on herself. Her hands locked around her knees that were up close to her chest. Her head was resting on top of them, covered by her hood. She faced the front of the boat, her back shutting out the princes behind them. Irritation inflamed in Ezran at his brother’s blindness, who was looking behind them trying to search for any signs of Katolis soldiers.

Ezran remained focused on Rayla. He wanted to help her in any way he could – they wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for her. Her kind look that gave him a boost of confidence in the castle surfaced to his mind, it helped him to make his choice to be here. Ezran wanted to support and comfort her, but he had no idea how he could do it. He didn’t get along well with any of his peers. It was only his father, brother, Soren and Claudia… and well, animals. He got along extremely well with animals, Bait being his closest companion and best friend.

Ezran took a deep breath; he needed to try. He closed the distance between them as he slowly reached out his little brave hand towards Rayla’s shoulder. It edged closer and closer. He grew more hesitant, uncertain of what he should say. He looked at the back of her hood, assuming where her eyes would be if she turned. Ezran prepared himself for a wave of emotions and thoughts overwhelming him, as Bait croaked, encouraging him.

His hand finally touched Rayla’s shoulder. She jerked around looking to see who disturbed her, but Ezran remained composed and did not flinch. Their eyes locked. He saw that expression, that strain on her face before – ‘ _Bloodthirsty monsters_ ’. It was filled with annoyance and irritation flowing into indignance. Ezran opened his mouth slightly to try and say something but nothing seemed to come to mind. He felt remorse for his brother’s words, even if he knew the reason why Callum said it and the fact that he didn’t mean it. Ezran was lost for words, not knowing how to explain what he felt. Unknowingly, he had only silence to show for it.

Suddenly, Rayla’s eyes and face softened slightly… that memory surfaced in Ezran’s mind again. She saw the turmoil in his eyes. That was enough for her; there was no need for words. She couldn’t be angry at him, because Ezran had done nothing wrong; she wasn’t angry with him after all. It melted her heart however to see Ezran’s concern and care for her. It was very sweet of him.

Rayla didn’t budge however, not letting her guard drop, but both her and Ezran seemed slightly more at peace now. Ezran even managed to beam a little, when he realised that his attempt worked. He managed to comfort Rayla, but his youthfulness and inexperience allowed him to miss the point. Ezran might have succeeded in comforting Rayla slightly, but it was Callum that was the tension point for Rayla… and she wasn’t just annoyed with his words.

Their silence was broken, when Callum spoke: “Phew, I can’t believe that actually worked.” Ezran’s face wavered as his hand dropped from Rayla’s shoulder, breaking their link. Rayla’s anger resurged on her face, as her eyes shifted to Callum.

“I can’t believe you’re such a jerk!” She said. Ezran moved back towards the middle of the boat.

“What did I do?” Callum was a little gobsmacked at her reaction.

“You called me a bloodthirsty monster!” Rayla turned away from him. “You have no idea how it feels!”

“But I don’t actually believe that,” Callum defended. “I hoped that she would back down if I…”

“Oh, yeah?” Rayla cut him off. “Well that certainly went well!”

Callum sighed, as he lowered his head. “I’m sorry.” He conceded.

“That’s not the worst thing.” Rayla flung the cube she got from The Lodge at him.

“You’ve got it?” Callum, surprisingly, managed to catch it. He even livened up a little. “Thank you, so much!”

“It’s a toy.” Rayla pointed out bitterly. “Probably from a children’s game. I hope it was worth it to you… putting everyone’s lives in danger.”

Callum dropped the cube. That cut him deeper than Soren ever did with his ‘step-prince’ comments and Callum wasn’t sure why. Maybe because it came from a stranger or maybe because it was an accurate statement… or maybe both. Callum’s shoulders dropped, as he was ashamed of himself. He recognised his mistake after it was too late and then forgot about it when he tried to fix the hot mess he made himself.

Beating himself up over it and feeling unbearably guilty, he sat next to Ezran and shifted a little closer towards Rayla… but he didn’t dare to get too close.

“I’m really, _really_ sorry… to both of you.” He said humbly. “I genuinely thought that everything would be fine.” There was a little pause, as the moon was slowly coming out from behind the clouds. Callum waited for a reaction, but when silence cut him further, he continued. “Also… thank you, Rayla. I… I owe you. It really does mean a lot to me that despite everything you risked your life… for two _human_ princes. I admire that and I wish I was as capable as that.” Rayla still remained silent, then Callum added a little gingerly. “Oh, how could I forget? And one _dragon_ prince of course!” That managed to get a snort out of Rayla.

“What did I say about heartfelt speeches?” Rayla didn’t budge, but her voice was a little less firm. She couldn’t hold it against him for too long, as she recognised how enthusiastic Callum was about magic. Despite everything, he really did mean well for everyone… at least he tried to make an impact. She appreciated that in him. The moon was now fully out and shining brightly over them, as the path ahead of them became clearer. “Just think things through next time.” She added, still remaining curled up and facing away from them.

“Um, Callum,” Ezran’s voice sounded beckoning, so Callum turned to him.

“What is it, Ez?”

“The cube,” Callum quickly got up and walked over to Ezran. The cube landed next to the primal stone… the Sky rune on the cube was glowing.

* * *

Viren’s moment was clawed away from him just at the last possible second. General Amaya and Commander Gren halted the coronation with the crown a mere millimetre away from his hair. Viren, who cut an unimpressed and vexed figure, entered the hauntingly empty throne room. It wasn’t filled with Harrow’s bad jokes followed up by his hearty laughter nor was his physical presence felt… his aura however was still lingering.

Viren looked at the windows to the left expecting to find Harrow staring blankly through them, brooding over another problem… but he was sorely missing. Harrow normally liked to be left alone in the dark and Viren would sometimes search for him in the throne room when Harrow lost track of time… Viren shook his head, yet another ghost he had to live with.

He walked over towards the empty throne that was supposed to be his tonight, but the princes were alive and he had no right as a result. Prince Ezran, well technically King Ezran, was still missing… a child king. The haunting darkness gradually grew even denser in the throne room, consuming everything around him. He shut his eyes, only his footsteps echoed back to him… nothing. Only his… no one else followed him. Viren clicked his fingers as the candles and torches on the pillars lit up, driving the darkness away. Now everything was visible…

“Harrow I,” Viren opened his eyes to apologise for disturbing Harrow… It wasn’t a normal day. Viren sighed, as he would have to get used to the sight of an empty throne, a throne without Harrow. He could only stand there, eyeing the throne, as he was reminiscing his times with Harrow.

 _I know you’ll stand by me through anything._ Harrow’s voice surfaced to his mind. He failed to convince Harrow to swap bodies with him. He failed to stop the elves. He had to make things right. For a second Viren thought if he should have been more proactive during the elves’ attack. He didn’t want to risk hitting a Katolis soldier and he wondered if he should have risked it now. His mind however was quickly drawn away from it. Firstly, what was done was done and his choices were made. The goal was the most important thing – they’ve stopped the elves from breaking through the door and the only way they could have achieved that was with the soldiers being alive; they managed without him. The fact that they got tricked and the real attack happened through an undefended balcony door did agitate Viren greatly. Secondly, he was interrupted by somebody’s arrival.

“I expected to find you here.” It was Commander Gren’s voice. The presence of General Amaya’s pet could only mean that she herself was in the room as well.

“Well?” Viren continued a little impatiently, turning around to face them.

“The coronation.” Gren translated. “Why did you initiate it?”

“You know Moonshadow elves,” Viren said coldly and dryly. He wanted to keep this short. “When we failed to find the princes I assumed the worst.”

“ _So you’ve lost the princes and you’ve lost the King._ ” General Amaya signed. “ _How could you let it come to this?_ ”

“You’re making it sound as though it is my fault. That I invited those assassins into our borders.” Viren fought back. “I did everything I could to save him!”

“ _For starters you’re alive, so I doubt you did everything you could._ ” General Amaya shot back, reminding him of the fallen soldiers. “ _What went wrong?_ ”

“You know him.” Viren gestured behind him like Harrow was still there. “He was too stubborn and proud to save himself!” There was a hint of sadness in his voice. Had he not done enough?

“ _You wanted this_ …”

“How dare you?!” Viren’s eyes were engulfed with anger.

“ _His death benefitted you._ ”

“His death breaks my heart! I offered to sacrifice myself!” Viren was nearly yelling at her, as it took every fibre of his body not to lash out and hit her. General Amaya did not even flinch.

“ _Then honour him – find his children._ ”

“Well, with the news that the princes are actually alive, that will be arranged. My children will lead the expedition.” Viren rushed to compose himself.

“ _You’re no king and you’re in no position to authorise a search party. As the general of the army, that befalls upon me,_ ” but Viren dared to interrupt, as he assumed she would propose to lead the search party herself.

“I beg your pardon, but didn’t you report an influx of Sunfire elves at The Breach?”

“ _Your point?_ ” General Amaya looked impatient and frankly didn’t appreciate being interrupted.

“I do not believe it is wise for you, the best general we’ve got, to leave The Breach in such a precarious position.”

General Amaya considered his words carefully. Viren was known to be ambitious, doing anything that would help him to reach the end goal, which is why she didn’t buy that Viren did everything he could to save her sister’s husband. Viren in the past was able to coax and persuade Harrow to reconsider his decisions; she believed that Viren was conspiring something, since he was so quick to coronate himself. After some reflections she signed.

“ _You’re right, drawing some of the forces away can be detrimental to defending the outpost. I must return to The Breach. The search party will be assembled here and led by commander Gren_.”

Gren’s eyes widened, but it was almost instantaneously taken over by his trademark excitement and enthusiasm. “That’s me… I’m commander Gren.”

Viren was less than enthused by this. He managed to get General Amaya out of the way, but there was no room for this idiot to lead the search party. Viren considered him not to be strong enough. However that would be a problem for another day. General Amaya turned and signed to Gren specifically.

“ _Gren, be careful! Do not trust Viren, I have a feeling he’ll backstab anyone with the first chance he gets_.” Gren nodded and then General Amaya turned and bid Viren farewell. “ _I’ve been away from The Breach for far too long, so I will return immediately. I’m sure you and Commander Gren will be able to send out a search party._ ”

“Of course, that wouldn’t be a problem. I’m sure many soldiers will be willing to search for the lost princes. Safe journey, General Amaya.”

Once the door closed Viren sighed, his shoulders sagged a little. He was exhausted.

“So,” Gren’s enthusiasm was still running high. “Let’s start,” but Viren waved him away, as he barged past him.

“It’s late, Commander Gren, we’ll discuss it tomorrow.” His voice was tired and exasperated.

“Sure, when?” Gren continued in the same energetic tone. Viren rolled his eyes and walked a little quicker.

“I must speak with the High Council first, on many topics, including this one. I am not certain when I will be free.” He reached the door, as his mind slowly processed the issues that needed to be dealt with: the search party, the Sunfire elves, the imprisoned elf, the missing egg. “I doubt it will be too much of a hassle, Commander Gren. We only need a few men in order to travel quickly and discreetly.”

“How many to be precise?” Gren responded quickly, almost as soon as Viren finished speaking. Viren pouted.

“Good night.” He slammed the door, extinguishing all the candle lights in the throne room, leaving Gren in the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting closer and closer to 'This guy' and soon we'll get to meet Him. Keep an eye out on Marcos, he will continue to have a part to play in this version of the story. Writing scenes involving Marcos has been very interesting indeed for me. I hope you are enjoying this!


	5. Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The princes were alive and they were seen with an elf. General Amaya and Lord Viren wanted to put a stop to their journey, but Viren had another reason for wanting them to fail, one that would pose a deadly threat to the team. In all of this, a young hero ran after them to try and reach out to them. Meanwhile, the team headed East down the river fairly oblivious to these threats and that they were up against the clock. Who would reach them first and what was Rayla so intent on hiding?

“I’m afraid,” Viren began. “War is coming…”

High Council meetings were predictable as usual, even the places where they stood. The Council was made up of five people, but only two ever engaged in major, heated and elongated debates. The first one was Lady Opeli.

“What makes you say that?” She interrupted his upcoming speech, hinting that the matters needed to be dealt with urgency.

“General Amaya has reported a gathering of Sunfire elves at The Breach,” Viren spoke a little quicker. “There have been reports of dragons flying above the towns of Katolis. An invasion is imminent, the assassination and the kidnapping of the princes was only the prelude to make us weaker.”

The second one was Councilman Saleer. Unlike Opeli, who was a traditionalist and conservative to the core, Saleer was a shrewd conniving man with a deep hatred towards Xadia. Viren shared his views on Xadia, however unlike Viren, Saleer was extremely cautious… overcautious in Viren’s opinion, even this time. The only time he ever took charge was when there was not a single shroud of uncertainty.

“You’re right, High Mage Viren,” Saleer said calmly, nodding. “We are much weaker and vulnerable now without a King,” his voice then changed to a slightly more hesitant and worried tone. “But now that we are weaker and the threat is growing, there is not much that we can do to support this war.”

“Not on our own.” Viren said brightly and eager to continue.

“What are you suggesting?” Opeli asked, suspicious of his plan.

“I do not believe that we have good chances of winning this war if we face them alone. That’s why we must band together and unite against the Xadian threat!”

“And how are you going to do that?” Saleer questioned Viren.

“I propose to call The Summit of The Pentarchy!” The High Council was shocked and frankly not particularly enthusiastic with this proposal. They especially feared what a certain individual would have to say to that.

“What?” Opeli was ready for anything, but not as far-fetched and ambitious as Viren was. “Are you out of your mind?”

“My mental state is in great condition.” Viren said, annoyed, but not surprised by this reaction.

“Do I need to remind you that only a King with his seal can call for a meeting with the Pentarchy? Do I need to also remind you that you aren’t a King?” Opeli was furious and was not going to go easy on Viren this time.

“I am acutely aware of this painfully obvious inconvenience, thank you very much,” Viren shot back. “But these are unprecedented times!”

“What are you hoping to achieve? What are you even going to say?” Saleer asked Viren, unsure of how he would be able to gain their support.

“I’ll reason with them; call to their common sense. At the very least I hope they can support us, if they do not join the war.”

“That’s not important,” Opeli cut Viren off. “Firstly, you are not going to be able to send the letter because you do not have a King’s seal, they won’t even dignify a look at the letter without it. Secondly, they are not going to listen to you because you are not even a regent and the rightful King is missing!” The High Council all nodded in agreement.

“Opeli, these are unprecedented times and out of them arise very unusual, unconventional situations,” Viren decided to make a slightly pleading tone. “Can’t you just let it slide, just this once?”

“I’ve already allowed you to hold King Harrow’s funeral for one day instead of seven. No more from me, especially after the way you forced to burn his body!” Opeli’s voice was turning more and more vicious.

“Great, so what should we do then?” Viren asked as he slowly began to fume.

“Our number one priority is finding the princes. Only Prince Ezran will be able to call The Summit of The Pentarchy.”

“Oh, and how long will that take?” Viren scoffed.

“As long as they are alive, we must search for them! Our hands are tied until then.”

“Is that going to be your excuse to the people of Katolis when the Sunfire elves come?” Viren ploughed on. “Will the people even buy that? I wonder if you’ll keep saying that when the elves are going to be cutting your throat and cutting down more and more innocents.”

Opeli was not backing down. “You’re saying as though as war is inevitable. What makes you think that Xadia will attack us in the first place?”

“The timing, the sightings… was I speaking to a brick wall earlier?” Viren looked like he was about to explode, as he moved from his side of the war table and closed the distance between them. “Do you think it’s just a coincidence that Moonshadow assassins came and killed Harrow and then all of a sudden Sunfire elves started to appear at the border in mass numbers? It was all planned!”

“The lava divides our borders!” Opeli also stepped towards him. They were not afraid to protrude into each other’s personal space. In fact, both of them were seething hot with this argument, that the little amount of floor there was between them might as well had been heating up, producing their own lava divide. “The elves can only cross the border and attack through one narrow point – The Breach. Additionally, if I recall correctly The Sunfire elves were already amassing their numbers at the border before the assassination. They’ve done it previously and they always dissipated before, it might not be different this time. Besides did the report state if there were any other types of elves assembling, as well?” Viren had no response to that. “Then I doubt the whole of Xadia is going to war against us.”

“That doesn’t change anything! Humanity is still in great danger, because there is a knife to our throat! Why should we tolerate this? We can choose to push that knife away! We must unite!”

“And we cannot do anything about this without the return of our rightful King!” Opeli was adamant. Viren, unable to convince her, looked to the whole council hoping somebody for once would say something, let alone support him… only a timid voice of Saleer echoed back to him.

“Unfortunately, Viren, she’s right… without the seal it will be impossible to authorise such a meeting.” He said.

Viren’s eyes narrowed, looking intensely at every member of the council, before turning his back to them. “Unbelievable… pathetic,” Viren voice was low, but the echo carried his fury and soreness. “Humanity is facing extinction, yet all of you would rather do nothing or play by the rules, bringing it closer upon us, than trying to stop it! Weak!” Viren was now yelling as he spun around. “You are all so rigid, impractical and out of touch with the gravity of the situation! Your system is old and your unwillingness to act is going to be the reason for our doom! Well, I’m not going to let you be the downfall of humanity!” The Council were left stunned and silent; nobody dared to speak. The words seemed all too familiar to all of them, not exactly how they were used four years ago, but the message was similar. “At least I get a little of what He was trying to say.” The Council gasped, as Viren stormed towards the exit. He needed to come up with something quick; he needed to act. If nobody was willing to help him, then he would do it alone.

“How dare you mention the traitor in such a light?” Saleer spoke, clearly mentioning Him touched a nerve. Viren did not say anything and The High Council thought he wasn’t going to dignify them with an answer, but he stopped just before leaving the room.

“Because He was right about what I just said, but not about everything else. Unlike him, I won’t abandon humanity. The meeting is adjourned.” Viren slammed shut the door on all of them.

* * *

It was easy to persuade his son into his plan. Soren, unlike Viren or Claudia, was brawn over brain. It irritated Viren, but at the very least it was useful this time. Getting the naïve Gren out of the way was also pretty easy. Viren gave an excuse that the Crown Guard should lead the party and look for the ‘future’ king, which everyone else would agree to. Of course Gren did try to oppose, saying that General Amaya said this or General Amaya said that, but none knew the stakes that he and humanity as a whole were facing… no one else saw it as he did.

His footsteps echoed loudly across the underground hallway, as he carried a plate of rare Xadian fruits, with a jug of water. His favourite was the strange indigo fruit that gave off the same coloured glow. The fascinating thing about this fruit was that there were almost no seeds, which made consuming it much easier. Viren descended with the spiral stairs, casting a condescending look on Gren who had his hands chained to the wall. Viren had to give it to Soren, who did give Gren a good smack on the back of his head. It was so effective that Gren was still recovering from it, many hours later. No one in Katolis, apart from Soren, knew about Gren staying behind, so Viren doubted anyone would notice his disappearance. In the meantime, he headed towards a side room, which was located by the bookshelf and was much smaller than the main dungeon chambers. As Viren left the door slightly ajar, he laid eyes on what was his most prized prisoner.

The elf, that murdered King Harrow, was on his knees. His eyes and head looking down at the ground below him and his hands were chained to the wall. He looked paler than ever, even for a Moonshadow elf. Viren managed to cover his disdain as much as he could for his friend’s murderer, as he tried to soften the elf up a little bit. Maybe he would open up?

“You haven’t eaten,” Viren began. “I have brought to you some Xadian fruit.” As Viren offered him the indigo fruit, the elf simply looked away, frowning. Viren continued calmly. “You may reject my food offering, but you must at least drink.” Viren poured some water out of the jug and thrusted the cup towards the elf. When the elf’s expression did not change, Viren spoke more firmly. “You will die if you don’t drink at the very least.”

“I am already dead.” The elf pointed out, his expression still hadn’t shifted. Viren rose up, as he drank from the cup and looked down at the elf. The elf wasn’t going to crack open easily and treating him with completely undeserved respect wasn’t going to help in extracting information. He needed results and he needed them fast.

“You do not look dead to me.” His voice was a little more chilling, but the elf was unfazed. Instead his left arm twitched a little and no matter how hard the elf tried, he winced ever so slightly. “Your arm doesn’t seem to be doing too well.” It was getting purple around the binding, as it seemed tighter than the last time Viren saw him. It was cutting off his blood circulation.

“I do not need your pity. You’re wasting your time here, I told you that I’m already dead.” Runnan spat out.

“You can feel, therefore you’re alive.” Viren decreed, as he took a step towards him, tearing down any personal space the elf had. “How did you know about the egg?” The elf didn’t reply. “Why did you kidnap the princes?” The elf was stubbornly silent. Viren pointed at the binding. “Every elf we saw had two of them, with one of them detached… fallen by their side,” Viren was going to ask him what they were for, but he slowly puzzled it together. Even his son would be able to figure this one out, since he knew who these elves were. “Those are your assassin bindings… bound to your targets,” the fallen ones must have been for Harrow. He looked away from the elf in disgust, as anger built up inside him when he was reminded again of his friend’s death. “Did you make it quick at least?” When the elf didn’t say anything, Viren barked at him. “Answer me!”

“I made him suffer,” Runnan, sensing that he hit a nerve was happy to make the mage suffer too. “I let him bleed out, after I struck him where it hurt most,” Viren’s hand formed into a fist, as he clutched his staff so hard that it began to turn white. The elf ruthlessly continued. “The cowardice in his eyes when he saw his executioner. A pathetic king, who only brought pain and suffering to us…” Runnan wasn’t able to finish his sentence as he was met with a bewildered scream from the mage and a heavy smack of his staff across his face.

“This is why He was wrong!” Viren shouted at him. “You do not feel or care for anything! You are self-centred and privileged. You think, that just because you are bestowed, for no reason, with the powers of Primal Magic, it makes you better than the rest, leaving us, humans, to work for everything else and deservedly reaping the awards! You do not see the bigger picture! How can you, when your high and mighty arrogance blinds you. Harrow was a great King, a ‘Servant King’, as he liked to say it! He did everything and more than he should’ve. Not only he served his own people, he helped people from the other kingdoms when they needed it.” Even though Viren disagreed with such actions. Harrow’s altruism was a massive source of his pride, making him, in Viren’s eyes, vulnerable and weak when it came to making tough choices. Instead of making calculated and sensible choices by putting the needs of the many before the needs of the few to benefit his own people in the long-term, he chose honour and pride, letting his heart make the calls. It was what had killed him in the end. “He was a hero,” Viren grabbed the elf by his chin, forcing him to look into his eyes. Viren leaned uncomfortably close towards the elf’s face and with a sinisterly low voice he proclaimed. “I will make you speak. I do not know yet how you knew about the egg or why you kidnapped the princes, but… who is the other target?”

The elf cruelly smiled at him. “Prince Ezran.” Viren backed off, as he eyed the binding. He had been entertaining the idea for a while… now it was perfect. “You won’t get much more out of me, so I suggest you end my life now.”

“Not before I get my answers,” Viren began to think out loud. “You clearly do not fear death, so I have to find something that you’ll fear more than death…”

“Moonshadow elves show no fear.” Runnan stated.

“Doesn’t mean you know no fear, everything that’s alive fears something…”

“And I’m…” but Viren cut him off.

“…already dead. Ugh, your arrogance and self-centred behaviour even skews your view of life. You couldn’t be possibly further from reality. Luckily for you I have more brain cells than my son that you faced, who lost them through all the fighting. A sharp mind is more dangerous than a sharp weapon. I certainly love a challenge and the one you set me is very good.” Viren picked up the tray and quickly headed out, his mind was racing with creative solutions.

“I wouldn’t mind trying some of those Xadian fruits,” Gren pointed out, as Viren walked past him, trying to lift his own spirits. Viren went up the stairs without regarding him. He was way too deep into his own thoughts… nor was he generous enough to even consider giving these fruits to Gren.

* * *

With every minute I grew more and more surprised, as I became more and more convinced that something incredible was happening. My thoughts maybe ran at the speed of sound and when I said them out loud they seemed hectic, but I promise everything made sense in my head. In fact I am surprised that after all this time I was still a sane person. If my consciousness and mind got transported in its entirety to a different being, I wouldn’t be surprised if they went insane. I knew and handled a lot of things, that to an untrained and inexperienced mind could be overwhelming. It was still sometimes overwhelming and tiring even for me… but my hunch about something greater beneath the surface made me more driven to find out exactly what was going on.

It maybe was crazy to state, but I slowly began to consider that the princes weren’t kidnapped. I mean, it wasn’t as crazy as Marcos forgetting to tell anyone that King Harrow was dead, but at least I could understand that in that moment he wanted to ensure the princes’ safety first and foremost. I owed him for his bravery to ‘betray’ his comrades, so it was my duty to ensure the princes were safe.

I tracked them and Rayla, as they travelled by boat down a river. Darkness and Rayla’s slightly damaged emotional state, that I was able to sense, played to my advantage; I was not seen. It was when they went to sleep, the thought of the princes not being kidnapped slowly creeped into my mind.

It would have explained a lot of things. There was not a single point when they acted like genuine prisoners. I needed to stay awake a little longer in order to make sure no one snuck up on them, so I really strongly contemplated that idea. It was the following morning, that even more signs confirmed things for me. They seemed to be fairly comfortable at each other’s presence, if previously there was a threat and that could have explained them sticking together, then now it was obvious that the reason for being together ran deeper than just a common threat. There had to be an overlapping interest, a common goal, but the question was: what could’ve possibly bound these three kids from the opposite sides together?

After running and following them for a full day, I decided that morning to closely observe them before I made any definitive conclusions. It struck me how forgiving and somewhat lenient Rayla was with the princes, especially with Prince Callum, for a Moonshadow elf who just met someone. She may have told him ‘that it wouldn’t end well for him’, when Prince Callum woke her up by shoving that glowing cube into her face, but there was no real aggression in her threat. She must have been curious about them, which is why she was attentive to when either of the princes spoke. Although I could sense slight tension from Prince Callum when Rayla wasn’t as open as he or Prince Ezran were. Moonshadow elves were reserved beings, so it would take time for her to open up, especially to someone of a different culture.

When Prince Callum spilled his excitement over this glowing cube of his, Rayla sarcastically shot it down by calling it ‘a glow toy’… maybe rightly so. I did miss Moonshadow elves’ humour and I certainly could appreciate Rayla’s sarcastic and teasing tone. It was a little breath of fresh air, when compared to the massive tension that was created from an anticipation of all-out war. These kids just hadn’t realised the full scale of the world’s situation, even though I suspected that they expected that things could turn ugly at a moment’s notice, just not exactly how... I certainly missed being a kid.

I realised that the cube was the only reason why they went to The Banther Lodge, when Prince Callum apologised for dragging them out for it. It was probably his apology that confirmed for me that there was no kidnapping, considering Prince Callum gave away that they should have headed for their destination in the East. I grew massive respect for Prince Callum’s ability to own up and admit his mistakes, and even more for his honesty. Rayla to him was still technically a stranger and Prince Callum had no qualms in showing vulnerability. It did however tip me off that perhaps he lacked confidence and maybe he was a failure in his own eyes. Whether it was truly his own eyes or not, was for me to find out later.

Rayla also gained my respect for being able to forgive Prince Callum for the blatant oversight on his behalf. She may not have realised it, but having the ability to be this forgiving required a lot of strength. It also meant that she put a lot of faith in him, which could be dangerous if she was wrong about something or misunderstood the gravity of the situation – it could be easily used against her. No matter, it was obvious to me that Rayla, unlike many Moonshadow elves, was somewhat understanding and reasonable. Perhaps that can be attributed to her still very young age and maybe the message that humans were bad, liars and couldn’t be trusted, wasn’t drilled enough into her.

It was easy to recognise that the princes were General Amaya’s nephews, when Ezran piped up about having and most importantly sharing breakfast. If I was in Rayla’s position I would have also politely rejected Ezran’s offer, because that bread looked as tough as stone. I also discovered that I didn’t imagine things last night and that she definitely was missing her braid, they could be tracked if General Amaya decided to send someone… or if there was another group of assassins looking for her.

She excused herself to get some fruits instead of eating very stale bread. I wanted to make sure that Rayla was truly on her own. That there wasn’t a separate group of assassins who fell behind or who tried to track them. I didn’t want to leave that up to chance, even though I was mostly convinced that there was a mutual goal between the princes and the elf.

She opted to eating her breakfast alone, next to a cliffside overlooking a stunning view. At least I thought the overview of the nature was incredible. It was no magical lands of Eastern Xadia, but there was still that unique, hidden, almost nostalgic beauty in the Western Xadia. It was simple… or maybe simply special.

While I got a little distracted, Rayla didn’t do anything suspicious: no signs, no trails, no marks… absolutely nothing. All she did was try to remove her binding in any way possible, which was extremely unusual for a Moonshadow elf. Considering their hellbent ways on oaths, bravery and loyalty this could’ve been viewed as an act of cowardice, but I didn’t think of it as cowardice. It wasn’t the first thing that came to my mind, considering what I saw from Rayla in Silvergrove and in The Banther Lodge, the last thing that Rayla was, was a coward. Was she refusing to take a life, just like when she spared Marcos? Possibly. It was then that my natural curiosity peaked – who was the binding for?

Once I was content with the fact that there were no signs of other Moonshadow elves chasing, tracking or following this little trio, I headed back towards the princes. I felt a little awkward and out of place to be present during her fleeting and private moments of peace and quiet… besides I left the princes unattended for too long.

To my amusement, I found Prince Ezran begging his bigger brother to do… magic? Prince Callum was a mage? Since when? Considering how excited Ezran was, I was willing to guess that he discovered his ability as a mage fairly recently. The more I spent time observing this trio… discounting Bait, the constantly grumpy glow toad, the more questions piled up. One thing was clear to me, Prince Ezran was still very young, eight years old if my math was correct, and he needed his fun time and attention.

Prince Callum, judging by his eyes, clearly loved his little brother and couldn’t say no to him, but it was also obvious to me that he wanted to do other things as well. He had his own life, his own needs and he couldn’t babysit him all the time. He needed his own space to grow and I wouldn’t be surprised if he wanted some form of guidance. It would explain why he wanted Rayla to open up – different culture; different perspective. He was a curious kid, last time I remembered briefly meeting him. It warmed my heart that Callum was a good brother and had a soft heart. I hoped that whatever this journey was that they embarked on and the horrors of war that could break out at a moment’s notice wouldn’t change him… permanently. Wishful thinking, they all had to grow up at some point as I did… perhaps a better way of phrasing it was ‘it wouldn’t change him too much’.

Then my focus shifted on Prince Ezran and I became horrified at the thought of how this journey could impact and potentially scar his life. What dangers lied on a traveller’s path, I knew them; what war could be, I knew; what vicious violence and hatred could be, I knew… but did they? Worst of all, I knew all too well what it was like to grow up too quickly and be plunged into horrible reality, when you weren’t ready for it. You never were until you faced it, but at least I was somewhat prepared… even if it paled in what I truly needed to possess. As I grew older I learned and saw new things, but I also recognised that young age did inevitably mean a certain lack of life experience. The only counter to that inexperience was time and time always came at its own pace, never too quickly, never too slow, always at a constant tempo… even if it did feel like inconsistent and ever changing sometimes. Prince Ezran’s growth needed to be eased and not rushed by the situation that he found himself in, even if it did require to sugar coat or hide the full truth that the trio could encounter.

Did I want to make my presence known to them? This would be the one good time where my fame, or infamy from a certain _narrow_ perspective, would be useful and play to my advantage… but it wouldn’t work on Rayla, who definitely didn’t know me. Rayla was going to be the toughest one to convince, so first impressions mattered. If I decided to help them then I definitely needed time to prepare.

I lost count how many times Prince Callum did the ‘ _aspiro’_ spell and Prince Ezran clearly wanted to know if his brother could do anything else. Ancient Draconic, which is the language you needed to use when casting a spell, wasn’t easily available in the Western Xadia, so I naturally concluded that Prince Callum didn’t know any other spells, especially if he used the same one several times in a row. I was about to be proven wrong when Prince Callum drew a different spell and bolts of lightning began to jump between his hands, fingers and the Primal Stone. It soon got out of control as the lightning bolts began to jump into the ground in the immediate area around Prince Callum, growing bigger and more unstable, forcing his little brother to hide behind a tree. Prince Callum’s look told me that he didn’t know how to finish his spell… well, also his subsequent scream for help, clearly calling for Rayla.

I was immediately impressed when it only took around a third of a minute for Rayla to cover a distance of a few hundred metres. Once again she showcased her great physical condition… and the fact that she cared for the wellbeing of the princes. She quickly retracted her blades when she realised that Prince Callum was yet again paying the price for his short-sightedness and impulsivity.

“He tried to copy Claudia’s lightning spell,” Prince Ezran hurriedly explained from behind a tree.

“I’m very good at the first part, but I’m struggling at the part when it comes to finishing this spell,” Prince Callum tried to look at the bright side. Rayla glared at him and he was forced to admit. “I don’t know how to finish the spell…”

“Well, that was certainly a good idea.” Rayla spewed sarcastically; I couldn’t agree more with her.

“Lecture well deserved, but it isn’t helping. What do I do now?” Prince Callum was correct. He regretted doing his spell as soon as it went out of control and he needed a solution, a way out – lecturing wasn’t it. Rayla tried to remember some Draconic words that could help Prince Callum out, but even she struggled. I studied Ancient Draconic on my travels in Eastern Xadia and it was really difficult to learn it, considering not many people practiced it. It wasn’t a spoken language, it was only used when doing magic.

“Do you remember what she said? Anything at all?” Rayla asked Prince Callum.

“Only that she called me a fool.” How fitting… and ironic.

“Yeah, ‘fool’ sounds about right.” Rayla agreed.

Eventually this bad idea was magnified by another, even worse idea. Encouraged by his little brother, who was a safe distance away and hid behind a tree, and despite Rayla’s protests, Prince Callum threw the Primal Stone to her. After a flash of lightning, Rayla was making a sizzling noise and was looking very unimpressed, to put it lightly, as her hair was standing up, sticking out in different directions.

Finally, after a well-deserved telling off, they packed up to move on. It was interesting that Prince Callum didn’t have a backpack and was instead forced to put the Primal Stone into his brother’s backpack. My attention got drawn to it, when a strange glow emitted from that backpack. Bait was in Ezran’s arms, so what was emitting that glow?

“We must keep moving as much as possible. We’ve still got a long way to go to Xadia.” Rayla said. So they were heading there, but why? “Especially if you are going to keep trying to kill me…”

“Sorry, I’m just really excited to learn magic.” Callum replied. I noticed how he kept looking at Rayla’s binding, clearly curious about its nature. “Wait. Why tire ourselves out when we can let the river do the walking.” That was a sensible proposition from him, but Rayla was very quick to reject it.

“Say goodbye to that boat; we’re going on foot.”

“C’mon, have you seen how little his legs are?” Prince Callum pointed at Prince Ezran’s feet. His little brother wasn’t particularly happy with being teased for his feet, but in some sense there was truth to Prince Callum’s teasing. I felt sorry for Prince Ezran, because all of this travelling couldn’t have been easy for his legs… or his growing body.

“Tough luck, we’re going on land. That is final.” It was a little too curt from Rayla for my liking, but at least there was a reason behind, as I soon discovered.

“Is there something you’re not telling us,” Rayla shook her head at Callum’s suggestion. “Some other reason that you don’t want to take the boat?”

“No, there is no other reason.” Rayla replied quickly. I may not be an expert at phobias, but I can recognise when someone is uncomfortable or afraid of something. I saw Rayla’s right hand cross to grab her other hand by its wrist – a self-soothing, comforting stance. Perhaps Prince Callum could sense it too, and instead of pitying her, decided to get a little revenge for being constantly teased.

“You’re telling me that you are this amazing, backflipping, slish-slashing assassin… and you’re afraid of a little splish-splash.” I guess that was one way of putting it. Rayla opened her mouth to try and deny it, but couldn’t find the right words to fire back.

“Aw, that’s cute.” Even Prince Ezran joined in this teasing process. He wasn’t wrong, but I would hate to be in Rayla’s position right now. Moonshadow elves weren’t supposed to show any fear and she would have to wrestle with her fear for an entire day of travelling… maybe even more.

“Fine, we’ll take your stupid boat!” Rayla said through her gritted teeth, as she reluctantly stomped over to the boat.

I guess I had to spend a second day in a row running after them. Considering I was unable to do my normal daily morning workouts for the past two days, this would do. I never seemed to have gotten the easy options and solutions, the easy ways out. No rest for the wicked. When I ensured that Rayla wasn’t going to jump out of the boat at the last second, I started running down the river to give myself a little head start.

* * *

“Hey, dad, you wanted to see me?” Soren asked as brightly as the midday sun that shone over them. He approached Viren by doing his daily dosage of lunges, counting them out loud.

“Soren, I need to speak to you about the search party,” Viren said inconspicuously, as he looked out over the town of Katolis from the castle walls.

“Sure thing, dad,” Soren stretched his legs, once he was next to Viren. “Lovely day today isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is quite,” Viren sighed, irritated by Soren’s lack of focus. “I need you to listen carefully.”

“I am,” Soren said as he began to do push-ups.

“You and Claudia are going on the search party…”

“… to find step-prince and baby prince, yes I am aware.”

“Please do not interrupt me.” Viren said firmly. “As I was about to say, you have a secondary task.”

“Oh, yeah?” Soren got a little excited.

“You must not tell anyone of your mission, even Claudia! Do you understand?”

“Of course I do.” Soren moved onto planking. Viren turned to face him.

“Listen closely, you are to return with the terrible news that the princes have met a terrible fate.”

Soren collapsed on the ground. “Wait,” he got up. “I believe I was planking and something got mixed up. Can you repeat that?”

“You are to return with the terrible news that _both_ princes _died_.” Soren blankly stared back at him. Viren slowly repeated the sentence again, putting emphasis into every single word.

“But wouldn’t that mean we failed the mission?” Soren naively hoped that Viren was pulling a horrible joke on him, like that one time when he actually forgot about his son’s birthday.

“The fate of Katolis and humanity hang in balance. Make no mistake, war is coming. Its outcome will be historically crucial to the future of our kind. We must be strong to make tough decisions, so that humans can return and take back Xadia, which is rightfully ours! If we are led by a child king…”

“He’ll make bad decisions?” Soren finished his sentence for him. He stiffened when he realised his dad was not joking.

“Precisely,” Viren elaborated further. “He will make weak choices, which will tip the balance in favour of Xadia, who then will wipe us out in the not so distant future. Humanity will cease to exist, if we allow a weak and foolish child to make decisions for people who know better. I cannot be the only one who fears this outcome?”

“That doesn’t sound particularly rad.” Viren didn’t quite understand what Soren meant, so Viren continued firmly.

“It is what must be done for the greater good of humanity, it is necessary!”

“Right, I get that, what I don’t understand is what am I supposed to do if I find the princes alive?”

“Oh,” Viren’s voice suddenly turned eerie as he smirked. “You’ll know the right thing to do.”

“I don’t know if I can do that,” Soren spoke hesitantly. Kill his two great friends? One of them was a kid and the other one couldn’t defend himself? He already failed to protect King Harrow, which was his duty as Crown Guard, now his father wanted him to kill his children, with Prince Ezran being his new unofficial king and duty? He could not possibly do that, but his father somehow scarily made sense. Soren understood where he came from. Was there no other way? His father was far cleverer than he was, so surely his father knew best. He wouldn’t ask him to carry out such a deed, if there was another way.

“My son,” Viren placed both hands on his shoulders. “You are strong and you must carry this burden alone! I know it will be difficult, but you will pull through. Do not be afraid! Remember out there in the wild deadly accidents do happen. Once you come back, I will make sure that humanity succeeds and prospers.” Viren turned around and headed towards his tower. Soren stood there. His world may have collapsed some time ago, but now it was totally splattered, crushed and incoherent. He wasn’t sure how and if he would be able to recover from his father’s request. There was a strange sensation of emptiness in his stomach that weighed him down. He was shocked and shook, unable to fully contemplate or wrestle with his thoughts and feelings.

Sensing his hesitation, Viren stopped and turned to face him once again. “The throne will be a heavy burden to take, but remember Soren, that one day that throne will belong to you.” Viren left.

 _Mine?_ Tempting as it was, Soren wasn’t eased by his comments. In fact, it made him feel even worse. If he was successful, he would be reminded daily of his deeds by the throne that wasn’t supposed to be his. That was if he could bring himself to sit on it. In showing strength and making the tough choice, he would return and take something that was never and never would be rightfully his. Wouldn’t the echoing castle walls remind him of his deeds too? Even at a simple thought of that, he became anxious. Soren, unclear about what exactly to feel, headed towards the bakery. He already had everything he needed on him, so he decided to prepare mentally by stuffing his face unintentionally and ironically with Ezran’s favourite jelly tarts.

* * *

The trio headed slowly down the river, their day slugging by. Ezran was playing with Bait at the back of the boat, while Callum sat in the middle dipping his hands in the nice cool water. Rayla, on the other hand, slumped at the front clenching the sides of the boat as hard as she could. For her, the day was going excruciatingly slow. Her eyes were wielded shut facing the sky, trying her best to ignore the water around her, but the rocking boat couldn’t quite create than illusion for her.

“Are you okay?” Callum asked slightly concerned for her state.

“Yep, I’m fine,” Rayla waved off quickly, but Callum pressed on.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” She opened her eyes, looking a little annoyed.

“And you’re not holding out onto anything?”

Rayla slowly sat up to face him, the boy wasn’t getting the hint. “Do you want to die or something?”

Callum quickly looked away and scratched the back of his head, but still pressed on. “No, it’s just I wanted to make sure you’re okay, because it’s okay to tell someone that you’re not okay… because you don’t look okay…”

“Okay.” Rayla responded mockingly, then sharply turned away, keeling over. Callum thought she was about to throw up. “I’m okay, I just really love boats. They are my favourite! So I wanted to really be close to one. Look at this intricate design, the smell, the lines, the… woodiness.”

Callum began to slowly abhor Rayla’s closed nature. Why wouldn’t she just admit that she was afraid of water? Callum tried to hide it by sounding a little light hearted.

“You know, who should be afraid of water but isn’t?”

“I’m not afraid of water!” Rayla angrily pointed out.

“I never said you were,” Callum frustrations were momentarily exposed there, but he regained his composure. “Anyways, Bait should be afraid of the water, but he isn’t. Have you ever wondered why he’s called Bait?” Rayla turned to face him, looking quizzical, but intrigued. She sat up slightly, leaning against the side of the boat. “Glow toads apparently make for a tasty snack for big fish, so fishermen used them as bait to catch these fish. Hence, our dad named him accordingly… and that’s my step-dad’s humour for you.”

“Shush Callum,” Ezran said firmly, as he covered Bait’s tiny ears. “Bait doesn’t know how tasty he is!” Callum grinned a little.

“Pfft, humans… You have a weird sense of humour.”

Callum’s grin fell immediately; Rayla still refused to open up. It was very uncooperative of her to get to know so much about them, whilst not telling them a single thing about herself… or Xadia. Callum was restless and decided to keep trying to break down the walls that she built; they had a long day ahead of them and an even longer journey. At the very least when he spoke, she didn’t seem to be as acutely aware of her surroundings. He could keep distracting her to make her journey slightly easier, in hopes that she would slowly let her guard down. Besides Callum did feel bad for her, seeing her struggle so much…

“Hey, Rayla…”

“Will you stop pestering me?” After missing or, rather, ignoring her hints, Rayla spelled it out directly, as she hungrily eyed the land on the riverbank.

“I just want to help… take your mind off of things,” when Rayla didn’t reply, probably ignoring him, Callum continued anyway. “Let’s play the five questions game!” Rayla looked at him bemused by his suggestion. “I ask five questions and then you get to ask me five questions.”

“Doesn’t sound like a good and elaborate game to me,” Rayla couldn’t hide her scepticism, but with a big sigh she conceded. “I guess I could try.” Thrilled by her acceptance Callum leaned forward. He wanted to carefully consider what to ask, plan out his moves, but he was too exhilarated to stop himself.

“What is Xadia like?” He blurted out enthusiastically, as his eyes grew bigger from anticipation. In that moment, it was a gift for Callum to have an artist’s imagination and creativity.

“Magical,” Rayla said, her body noticeably less tense, as warm and nostalgic memories and pictures flooded her mind. “Wherever you look there is magic. It’s part of our nature… no, it is one with nature. Plants have it, animals have it, elves have it,” Rayla’s shoulders relaxed, as an invisible weight slowly departed her. His game seemed to be working.

“You have got to describe some of these things to me, I want to draw it in my sketchbook!” There was something really sweet in the way Callum’s mind and passion sparked in that very instance. Really, that moment was magical itself. His brain ran wild with rich pictures of what he perceived to be Xadia…

“Hey, Engrossed Prince,” Rayla lightly kicked his leg. “Get your artist head back down from the clouds!”

“Right, yeah. Is the game working?”

“Maybe a little, although it seems to only benefit you. By the way that counts as a question.” Rayla quipped. Callum for once didn’t let it get to him and ignored it, she was finally back to her normal self. “Ask your third question.”

“How did you become such a good fighter?”

“Well, I woke up early every morning and trained. There wasn’t really a single thing that made me a good fighter. Moonshadow elves were predisposed to being elite fighters and assassins, I was lucky I was a precocious kid, that I had talent, but then I also put in the mental and physical effort to really excel. If I wasn’t eating or going to school, I was training. Sometimes I would train on my own, waaaaaay into the night. I always wanted to become a warrior and I never stopped.”

“That is so cool!”

“Yeah I know,” she said proudly, puffing out her chest. “I am cool.”

“I also did that with my drawings,”Callum suddenly got a rush of that pride from her, as he continued to tear down the wall between them. “I always drew in my spare time when I wanted to take my mind off things. I would draw the view, people, myself… Ezran wouldn’t let me go without drawing him at least once a week.”

“Hey, you know how annoying it was when you kept me up at night when you scribbled for hours on end?” Ezran piped up. “The worst of all was when you animated your ‘fights’ with weird noises!”

“Like what?” Rayla inquired, hoping for more entertainment, as she completely forgot that she was on a boat. To Callum’s great displeasure followed by embarrassment, Ezran made strange screeches and exaggerated battle noises complimented with animated gestures. Rayla’s ringing laughter made Callum’s face match his crimson shirt, resembling the Katolis colours more and more. “Wow, is that how you think fighting works? How old are you?”

“Fourteen,” Callum grumbled, avoiding their eyesight.

“You humans are so weird!” Rayla was finally able to contain her laughter. “This game is so amazing, ask your next question!”

“Well,” Callum tried to put his embarrassment behind as quickly as possible. “Since you know a little bit about my step-father, what are your parents like?” Rayla’s face immediately fell and turned sour. “My stepdad was displeased when I stayed up all night drawing, surely your parents had to force you to go to sleep?”

“They’re dead,” Rayla quickly looked away from a crestfallen Callum.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“I know. It doesn’t matter,” Rayla was curt, as she curled into herself yet again. Callum cursed himself, there went his chance at opening up Rayla. Everything was going so well, but then he just had to blow it.

His thoughts got quickly interrupted, as Callum noticed something in the distance. He promptly grabbed a paddle and tried to push the boat to the side, but he suddenly stopped after a few pulls. The current was carrying them too swiftly, so there was no real chance of getting out of it. Plus Callum considered it a good way to make Rayla admit her fear of water and face it head on. She did seem like that type of person… or elf.

“Okay, are you sure that there is nothing else you want to tell us?”

“I’m done with questions!” Rayla said stubbornly.

“You still technically have two more questions to answer.” Callum replied unwittingly. Rayla shot him a glare, who could only defensively raise his hands. “Right now would be a very good time to tell us, because look.”

Rayla’s ears twitched, alerting her that the river flow was picking up. She followed to where Callum’s hand was pointing and she saw that the boat was quickly approaching a waterfall. Her eyes painted an expression of pure terror on her face, as she ducked and clenched the boat seats so hard, her already pale skin became even whiter than her hair.

“Pull the boat over!” Rayla shouted. Her voice was slightly quivering, as she had to swallow her pride. “I admit it! I’m afraid of water! I hate it, it makes me feel all the terrible things! I absolutely can’t stand deep water! There I said it, are you happy now? Please just pull over!”

“I’m afraid Rayla I can’t,” he grabbed her and dragged her to the back of the boat with Ezran. “We’re going to have to go down that waterfall.” Callum sat in the middle and held tight to both of them. He resisted the urge to pull away from Rayla, because she hurt him by squeezing his hand so tightly. She must have forgot that her hand was holding him and not the boat. She must have been scared into senselessness and numbness. Ultimately he decided to put up with it. Either way, this was going to be a ride.

What followed was a symphony of screams, as the trio went down, not one, but two waterfalls accompanied by a cacophony of rash water currents. It wasn’t the safest way of travelling and certainly not the greatest way to make Rayla admit her fear of water, but at the very least the boys enjoyed their ride. Their throats were a little harsh from screaming from excitement. Rayla’s yells were only driven by utter terror, as she snapped a bit of wood off of the side of the boat and gripped Callum’s hand tighter than her binding.

Despite the fact that the boat was now in still waters, she was motionless. Eventually Callum was able to pull away from her clutch when he got up. Rayla slowly came out of her stupor, as she started to comprehend the world around her.

Callum was still riding high from this totally unnecessary and dangerous endeavour. “Hey, you faced your fear, how do you feel about water now?”

“I’ve never felt worse about water in my life.” Rayla hanged over the edge of the boat in case she threw up. Callum was saddened that his ‘totally safe, smart and fool proof plan’ failed, but otherwise he was relatively calm and content, despite the reckless feat and the fact that they were completely soaked.

Ezran fished Bait out of the water and told him off for swimming in the river. To fuel Ezran’s anger, Bait crankily croaked in response, since he had no control over the way the boat tilted and thus wasn’t his fault that he wasn’t held tight enough and went overboard. In all of that commotion, Callum checked Ezran’s backpack to make sure nothing got lost. Everything was still here: the egg, the primal stone, the cube…

“Wait, guys, the cube is glowing with a rune I’ve never seen before!” Everyone’s heads turned to Callum.

“It’s the Ocean rune,” Rayla pointed out a little pensively, as she seemed to be preoccupied with trying to make sense of the cube’s behaviour. It glowed whenever it was directed towards anything that possessed an Arcanum, but no one on this boat had the Ocean Arcanum.

“Huh, it gets brighter the lower it is,” Callum kneeled and laid down on his front. Rayla seemed to have connected the dots.

“Where’s the paddle?” Panic was present in her voice. Ezran was about to point to it, when the whole boat got flung and flipped high into the air. The boat was toppled by a monstrous fish, its size dwarfed the trio and could easily compete with a dragon.

Rayla landed on the riverbank with a heavy thud. In any other case she would be grumbling about her lack of elegance, but this time she was kissing the land, ecstatic to be reunited with it. “Oh, sweet, sweet land. How I missed you!” She got to her feet and saw the brothers far away from the riverbank swimming towards her. The monster didn’t follow them. She was relieved that everyone was safe… but her relief was short-lived. Bait was stranded in the middle of the river far away from everyone. The monster was beelining for him. Rayla tried to yell to the princes about the danger that Bait was in, but unsurprisingly they couldn’t hear her. Ezran was a slow swimmer and Callum was slowed down by the backpack. She tried to deny it, but everything screamed in her face that Bait’s life was solely in her hands.

“Goodbye, sweet land,” she said wistfully, as she eyed a log that drifted by. She could use that to get closer to Bait and the monster. She ignored her own sense of preservation, as she ran up a tree and leapt to that log. She landed gracefully, but then immediately fell clutching to that log with her dear life. Her body locked around it tightly freezing up in fear, refusing to obey her.

 _C’mon Rayla_ , she hyped herself up. _Do it for frog! The grumpy frog that hates you!_

Despite herself she stood up, as she faced, frankly, an impossible task. She needed to try her very best to ignore the water around her in order to function and track both the sea monster and Bait… in which water was an indispensable part of their contextual surroundings. She unsheathed one of her swords and rotated it into a pick. The monster was going to travel quicker than anything else she had available to her and eventually it would go for Bait. She jumped soring towards it and hooking herself into one of the fins on the monster’s back.

Bait croaked frightenedly trying to swim away, but his small paws and eating one too many jelly tarts in his recent years, did not make him a quick swimmer. Bait felt the creature approaching him from behind, so he did the only thing he could – he flashed, as soon as it came really close to him. Disoriented the monster ducked under water and then quickly back up again. The waves sent Bait flying up and Rayla departed the monster, going after Bait and catching him mid-air. She pulled him close to her in a protective embrace, as gravity pulled Rayla back down. They plummeted, creating a monumental splash.

Everything went dark and silent for Rayla. All she felt was her pick in one hand and Bait squirming in her other hand. This was what Rayla thought death must have felt like – uncomfortably mild, muffled and a barely visible plane of existence, with the colours dulled and muted, with your movements slowed down, as you constantly felt restrained and under pressure in a disoriented environment. The pressure reminded her that she didn’t take a deep breath before they went underwater. Her mind, which was in overload mode from the adrenaline, compelled her to look around…

Now _That_ was the reason she hated water, especially deep water, so much. Out of the darkness emerged the creature, complacent, as it glided towards the victims who were not as versatile in its environment as it was. The monster wouldn’t even feel anything if it swallowed them, they were so insignificant compared to it. Rayla swam away as quickly as she could, but this was the monster’s kingdom, not hers, and everything played into the monster’s hands… if he had any.

They were in the jaws of the monster, its mouth beginning to close, gradually embracing Rayla in cold darkness. Refusing to give up and let them die, letting the journey end, Rayla used her pick as a last ditch effort to hook herself onto the corner of the monster’s mouth. The monster’s mouth twitched back open and Rayla used the opportunity to pull her and Bait out of its mouth and to the side of it. She was losing more and more oxygen, as the light looked dimmer and the darkness kept creeping.

Miraculously, the monster bolted to the surface, all she had to do was to hold on just a little longer. When they resurfaced, she gulped madly as a gulf of sorely missed air rushed into her depleted lungs. They managed to barely survive, but what was she supposed to do now? She hoped the monster would flick her and Bait close to the riverbank, if not on top of it. Could the princes do anything?

She looked for them when that thought entered her mind and there they were safe and… was Callum replicating the previously unsuccessful lightning spell? Had he gone completely mad? Why now? She could hear them shouting to her, but it was very naïve of them to think that she would be able to hear them. To her surprise, Ezran sprinted along the riverbank, as he constantly almost aggressively pointed at her and then demonstratively jumped. He did that several times in a row, not even bothering to stop or slow down for a second, like _her_ life depended on decrypting the message. They wanted her to jump… but why? Surely she would be an easier target for the monster if it was quick enough to locate itself underneath them.

Even if her and Bait got lucky and fell into the water, then they would still be stranded in the middle of the river and she wasn’t sure they would be lucky for a second time in a row. She had a rationale, but then she realised something important. Despite knowing her so little, Ezran showed faith in her suggestions and even then despite all the attempts on her life, mostly from his brother, they were in this mission together and in any Moonshadow elf mission you should have always relied on your teammates. She didn’t consider this to be any different and so, putting her faith in the princes, she sprung into the air. She observed the monster below her lining up for an easy catch, but she remained collected. Soon it became clear to her why she needed to jump, as the monster convulsed and went into uncontrollable spasms. She quickly darted her eyes to Callum, who dipped his hand into the river, electrocuting and frying the monster below her.

As gravity once again grabbed hold of her and Bait, she yelped a slight cheer. It was only slight because she was yet again underwater. She wouldn’t admit it to him any time soon, but that was a genius idea that made her largely forgive him for his previous oversights. It was incredible to see such a juxtaposing ability within this one human in high pressure situations to sometimes be at a loss of words and movement and other times be quick thinking. Albeit if it did mostly lead to worse or sometimes more awkward situations. Callum would have certainly been over the moon if he heard her call his idea ‘genius’, but instead he simply cheered and celebrated with Ezran on the side, still soaking wet. They cheered louder finally spotting Rayla’s and Bait’s heads when they resurfaced… among other fish that were in the vicinity of the lighting spell.

* * *

Claudia tried her hardest to reveal the secrets of the mirror with yet another reveal spell she just learned, not even asking her father if he already tried that one. Viren poured countless hours over the last four months trying to crack the enigma of this mirror, returning very late at night from his tower. If she succeeded, it would make her dad proud and that was the biggest prize in the entire world. She remembered how Viren hugged her and a smile swarmed his face when she managed to extract the horn of the unicorn, one of the most elusive and rarest creatures in Xadia. They were considered almost extinct. She recounted the feeling of pride and accomplishment knowing that _that_ horn was pivotal in taking down Thunder. _She_ had a hand in what her father referred to as a ‘historical moment’. She began to slowly crave more of that sense of accomplishment, but mostly she wanted her father’s praise.

He and her brother were the most important thing in her life and she would do anything for them, even if Soren disliked Dark Magic and magic in general. She had full faith in her father and unlike Soren she followed in his footsteps. In fact she sprinted through his footsteps at an alarming rate and it was a question of time of when she would surpass him.

“Claudia, you’re still trying to use the reveal spells I’ve already tried.” Viren said sounding exhausted, but was overall impressed with her daughter’s persistence. He put his staff to the side, tucking his hands behind his back, observing the Dark Magic wearing off her, as her eyes went from fully black to her usual olive green.

“Oh, I probably should’ve asked you first,” she gave a small laugh, fixing her hair behind her shoulders. “I just really want to help, dad. If you say this is important…”

“I have a feeling it is _probably_ important.” Viren corrected Claudia.

“Then I want to help any way I can.”

“That is very good of you Claudia, but right now there are more important things that require you to be elsewhere.” Claudia’s unfazed face made Viren realise that she must’ve missed the memo. “You and Soren are going to search for the princes.”

“They’re alive?”

“Yes.”

Claudia was jumping on the spot from the sheer happiness to find out that Callum and Ezran were alive… especially Callum. She really missed his goofy and awkward demeanour… and his eyes, his green eyes that seemed to smile more than his mouth ever could. Claudia’s attention was quickly regained.

“They were kidnapped by an elf.” Viren told her.

“Oh, that elf girl in the dungeon?” Claudia’s elation instantly disappeared, giving way to determination. “I have a score to settle with her!”

“Claudia, I need you to stay focused. You have a secret mission…”

“Oh, I like secret missions and secret stuff. Is it a high top-level, super sneaky, secret confidential mission that no one apart from me and you can know?”

Viren pinched the bridge of his nose and wearingly sighed. “Yes, if you would prefer to call it that.”

“Okay, I promise I won’t tell anyone about this. What is it?”

“I need you to retrieve and safely return the egg that the princes have.”

“The one that glowed, that you got from the Dragon’s King lair?”

“Yes, it’s important that you bring it back safely, whatever it takes; no matter the cost. It must not, under any condition, reach Xadia! Soren should be ready.”

“Ok, I understand,” her father seemed a little tense, so as she headed out she decided to lighten the mood a little. “Hey dad! If Soren gets himself in trouble and… I don’t know, aggravates a horde of stinging bumble-scorps,” Claudia began to maniacally buzz, only for a put off Viren to shush her so she could get to the point. “And in that swarm I have to choose between saving Soren and the egg. What should I do?” Viren was stunned by her question, he wanted to respond but it was as though as his mind went completely blank and frozen. Claudia burst out laughing. “It’s a joke, dad. You still remember what those are, right?” She began prancing towards the door, her head in the clouds from all of this excitement, only to be brutally pulled down from it.

“The egg,” Viren finally said. She went rigid, as her feet became glued to the spot. “If you absolutely have to choose, then choose the egg. Too much’s at stake, the existence of humanity is at risk,” Viren tried to sound calm, but Claudia could tell that he was uncomfortable with the truth he faced and presented to her. “I hope you understand. Accidents do happen, so be prepared.”

Claudia gravely closed the door behind her, reality of her dad’s remark settling slowly in. She would have to lose another one? Not again! If she got to choose this time… she shook her head, they were going to be fine! She kept telling herself that Soren was the best warrior around and she was the best mage behind her dad, nothing bad could ever happen to them! Any strife, they would face it, nothing could hurt or stop them! This time she wouldn’t get to choose…

Trying her best not to let the thoughts come back, she headed to Callum’s room to grab his forgotten backpack.

 _He must be pretty scared right now, with that elf dragging them along. Keeping him as a prisoner._ She thought.

* * *

The trio dried off in the clearing by the riverside, as they did their best to get the excess water out of their clothes. It was getting to dusk, so they would soon need to hurry up in order to set up their camp.

“Is the egg ok?” Rayla asked, squeezing her hair to get every single drop of water out of it.

“Yes, it’s fine.” Ezran produced the brightly glowing egg out of his backpack.

“Put it away, we don’t want anyone to see it! I trust your judgement after all.” Realising his mistake Ezran followed Rayla’s instruction and hurriedly put it back in.

“Hey, thank you, for saving Bait,” Callum spoke genuinely. “It was very brave of you.”

“No, I’ve already told you that I’m afraid of water.” Rayla looked dejected. She was very uncomfortable with showing weakness and vulnerability in front of others, especially if they weren’t family or really close. She naturally turned to face away from them, eyeing the river.

“Exactly, which is why what you did was so brave. You did it despite everything and I wouldn’t be as impressed, if I didn’t know anything about your fear. People will respect you more if they know that you’re afraid, but then you do it anyway.” Callum encouraged her. Rayla was slightly taken aback, because back home she would have got scoffed and scolded for her openness… but Callum was complimenting her. She didn’t turn to face him however.

“Oh,” her voice went soft and quiet, as she began to stammer. “Thank you… I… was not… expecting that.”

“Why?” Ezran pondered. “We are all afraid of something, but not everyone can face and wrestle with their fears head on!”

“Moonshadow elves are never supposed to show fear, _ever_.” She felt a shuffle behind her. One of the boys must have approached her.

“I’m sorry, if I made things uncomfortable for you by trying to make you admit to your fears. I just wanted you to ope… _tell,_ something about yourself. We were concerned for you.” Callum spoke with the most genuine apologising tone Rayla heard from anyone. He was so genuine that she felt guilty for lying earlier, she felt like she owed him and that he should be rewarded for his persistence. He was only trying to do a good thing.

“My parents aren’t actually dead,” she blurted out, lowering her head “but I wish those cowards were!”

“Why would you say something like that?!” Ezran was jarred and so was Callum, but Rayla didn’t see any of it.

“My parents were part of the Dragonguard, elite warriors that were supposed to protect the Dragon King’s family,” she looked up to her parents, wanted to be like them, follow them in their footsteps. “But when they were needed most, when they were supposed to protect that egg that the Storm Dragons lay once every thousand years, they ran away…” she refused to say anything more, pained for thinking about it, let alone mentioning it. She wasn’t ready to open herself up fully.

Since that fateful day four months ago, life for her became riddled in shame and despair, as she numbed her senses to everything around her in Silvergrove: the looks, the jeers, the rejections… to everything and nearly everyone. She saw her assassin mission as a way of proving that she was stronger and that she wasn’t like her parents. She even gave up on her dream of becoming a Dragonguard, choosing a different path that required the same set of skills. However that egg changed everything, it was her parents’ fault for letting it slip to the humans and now she had a chance to return it back to its rightful spot, to its family. What originally started as a journey of revenge, turned into a journey of redemption.

Rayla gasped, raising her head and turning it slightly, when she felt someone place a hand on her shoulder. Now it was Callum’s turn to feel guilty, it was his father after all who killed the Dragon King and supposedly destroyed the egg.

“Rayla, I’m so sorry for what the humans did to you. Together, we’ll do everything we can to make things right!” Rayla gave a weak smile, she for once wasn’t left alone, wasn’t rejected even though she was at fault in front of Callum. She was finally getting comfortable talking to the princes, that was until. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask. What is that ribbon on your wrist?”

Rayla tensed immediately. She couldn’t tell him the truth, no way. What if…? There was a slight pause that made Callum suspicious. Rayla felt the binding tightening slightly, as she gently scratched her wrist. “Oh, it’s nothing. It’s just decorative,” Rayla gave a timid look and smirk, hoping Callum wouldn’t call her bluff. The silence made it uncomfortable for her, as she seemed to feel her cool headedness melt away. “Moonshadow elf thing I guess,” she tried to hide a wince when the binding tightened again.

“Okay,” Callum said tersely. He refused to push her on the subject, she had enough for today.

The breeze became noticeable and they were still a little wet, it was inevitable that it would come to this and it was the perfect opportunity. Rayla sneezed.

“Bless you!”

“Thank you,” Rayla replied. Her eyes widened as she looked at Callum, who mirrored her expression. It wasn’t him who said it. They both looked back at Ezran, naively hoping that he was the one who said it. It was a little too deep a sound for an eight year old to replicate. Behind Ezran a figure leaned by a lonely tree in a clearing. The figure had a green cape with golden and a touch of magenta edges. In the middle of that cape stood a loud, proud and beautifully woven golden letter G. The man turned to face them, his elegant tenor voice rang across to them.

“Good afternoon, lady and gentlemen.” The dashing man delicately strode towards the trio, looking like he carefully measured every step. His hands were behind him, remaining between his back and his cape. Rayla noticed the boys shaking a little, so she got in front of them. She carefully inspected him, as he finally approached them. Underneath his cape, the man wore a black shirt with orange lines down the side and black trousers. The fine clothes looked spotless, almost pristine… but his leather brown boots gave away the fact that the man must have travelled a lot. No matter how clean they looked, there were scratches on them that were irreparable. The man wasn’t much taller than Rayla, but he was densely built. The man could be a great siege weapon, not only he looked as tough as a rock, but he also had battering rams for legs. His cape flailed in the slight breeze emphasising the width of his enormous shoulders. His bristle covered his chiselled jaw, but his sharp brown eyes exuded endless energy of youth. Rayla felt conflicted about this stranger, as his sheer aura shone around him managing to brighten the clearing they were in. His gentle smile revealed the white teeth that reflected the rays of the setting sun.

“Prince Callum, Prince Ezran, Rayla.” He regarded them and bowed politely. Questions began to flood in Rayla’s confused head. The man continued. “Before you say anything,” the man pointed to his messy chunk of a hair, catching Rayla off-guard. “It looks awful, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, quite awful.” Rayla spoke tensely and with great suspicion. The man’s dark brown hair was a thick messy cloud ball of strands, that refused to obey. Most of the strands curled, but some were straight and others were wavy. It gave a crazed, unsettling impression to the man.

“It’s been half a year, I’m sorry. You can’t trust rivers for reflection, so I’m just waiting to get in front of a mirror.” The man continued casually.

“It’s… It’s…” Ezran’s voice trembled.

“Oh come on, please,” the man sighed heavily. “I’ve heard ‘That guy’, ‘Him’, ‘The kid from the competition’, soooooo many times. You know my name, Prince Callum, so please refer by my real name.”

“Francis.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooh, here we are. Finally we get to properly meet Francis. He was an extremely fun character to write and you'll get to see more of Him in the upcoming chapters. I hope you'll like Him, because He is not going away any time soon.


	6. The Hidden Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone had something to hide and be afraid of, especially if it was a product of a prolonged series of deep cuts that hurt them and others around them. The team stumbled upon Francis, a person who knew more than it could ever seem at first glance. Back in Katolis, Viren was going to try and break his prisoner, Runnan.

It took longer than Francis expected for Rayla to draw her swords.

“What do you want?” She spat, her expression was stony and unmoving.

“I just want to help,” Francis said calmly.

“We don’t need your help! We’re going right now and you’re staying where you are and not following us!”

Francis was unfazed by Rayla’s demands and continued nonchalantly. “Firstly, on the contrary you could definitely use my help. Secondly… really? The wizard boy just did a cool magic trick and practically given you dinner on a silver platter and you’re not going to take any of it. If you don’t mind, Prince Callum, I’ll take some.”

“Thank you, for reminding me. How do you know my name?” Rayla looked furiously at him.

“Well, we haven’t met, but I saw you back in Silvergrove…”

“Impossible, there is no way a human would make it to Xadia, let alone be let into Silvergrove unnoticed,” Rayla looked distrustfully at him.

“ _Eastern_ Xadia, thank you very much. I’m the living proof that debunks that statement, however I was ‘noticed’ by specific people that could be trusted,” Rayla wanted to argue and interrupt him again, but he ploughed on forcing her to listen to him. “As I was saying, I’ve been to the Silvergrove exactly three and a half years ago – a lovely place. I saw you training to become an elite warrior. I must admit you’ve made great progress, you’ve grown. I never met them personally but I could recognise the similar features between you and your parents, you always looked more like your mother.” Rayla gripped her swords tighter and raised them higher at Francis who remained unmoved, hands still between his back and cape. “Also you and Prince Callum do talk extremely loudly.”

 _He knew! He wasn’t lying?! How long has he been following us?_ Rayla thought to herself seething slowly, then she spoke revealing the burning hatred inside her. “How dare you mention them!? I am nothing like them! If you still want to have your tongue by the end of this day, you’ll leave!”

“I sense a disturbance in your voice,” Francis spoke surprisingly calmly, despite Rayla’s threat. “It seems to me that I have revealed a scar. Please forgive me for two things: firstly, it was not my intention to make myself apprehensive by mentioning your parents; secondly, I have no intention to leave, I simply cannot.”

“Then I will make you leave, either us or this world as well,” she barked.

“Please, Rayla, you don’t want to do this,” Francis pleaded. Rayla remained silent, her glare was enough to tell him that there was no point in reasoning further. He tried his best and after making that one mistake, she was determined to get her way. He wasn’t planning to give in, so the fight was unavoidable… again. It would be a great way to assess her. The question was: how long would she last?

“Um, Rayla, maybe we should let Francis…” Ezran began hesitantly, keen to avoid them fighting.

“No, he is not helping us!” Rayla said angrily, turning to Ezran and then immediately glaring at Callum when he attempted to say something. She then spoke directly to Francis. “Give up!”

“Francis is… a persistent person, to say the least.” Callum interjected.

“I’m a fighter.” Francis warned, remaining totally still. “I don’t easily give up on things, especially if they matter greatly to me. If you build a wall in front of me, I’ll go around it. If you make it wider and double its thickness, I’ll scale it. But if you build a castle and a fort in front me, I’ll go through it, head first, destroying everything in my way.”

“There’s a first for everything, unfortunately your death happens only once.” She prepared to make her first move. She noticed Francis’s eyes lose their softness that he held from the start of their conversation, as his entire expression became blank and unreadable. While he remained stationary and with his hands between his back and his cape, she felt his eyes moving all over her. They were like needles, scraping along her entire body, scanning carefully and precisely. Francis sighed… and turned his back to her.

 _Fighter, huh? How careless and foolish of him to turn his back_ , Rayla thought, as she switched one of her blades to a pick and went to hook his left foot. Little did she know that she was the one being careless.

 _Cling!_ Rayla’s blade went flying to the side.

 _Where did that force even come from?_ She was left dumbstruck. Francis was standing with his hands still between his back and his cape. He then slowly stretched his right hand out to the side, producing a sword and subsequently answering her question. The sword looked balanced and light in his hands, itching for a swift strike. It was and wasn’t just like everything else. It was even more polished, and despite the sundown, glowed with the ever bright and hopeful sunlight. He was facing her now, as the golden hilt brightly lit his deceivingly blank face. At the bottom of the grip, yet again was the letter G.

“Maybe we should tell Rayla, that…” Ezran whispered, but Callum shushed him.

“I think we should enjoy this, it’s going to be a spectacle!”

Francis stood sideways, with both feet planted to the ground and both hands on the sword. Rayla went on the offensive, as she quickly and ferociously swung her sword from side to side. Francis masterfully parried it with ease and great finesse, sharply twisting his hands. His movements were cold, calculated and meticulous, always instinctively choosing the option with the least amount of effort. After the first few parries he began to shuffle backwards, as she advanced and struck with more and more vigour.

The fighters were moving past the lone tree to their side. Rayla smirked; she had him now. She flipped backwards and ran full speed towards Francis. He pointed his blade directly at her, ready to swing it. Rayla ducked slightly and sprung towards the tree, jumping over Francis and gracefully landing behind him. She tried to sweep his legs, but his blade blocked her attempt yet again, as his hand led his body seamlessly and elegantly, allowing him to spin and face her.

He shifted his weight forwards and on his toes, becoming an unstoppable force. Rayla thought she was being uncharacteristically slow, but she didn’t have the luxury to think as she had to fully concentrate in order not to concede Francis’s wild and powerful swings. He was slightly animated, attacking widely and dramatically… constantly from his left side. Rayla saw the openly vulnerable right side. That was her chance, she parried his attack, flipped her sword to her left hand and swung it.

And yet again, his sword collided with hers, this time however he was holding it with one hand. Francis executed his plan masterfully, as she took the bait. With his left hand he grabbed her wrist, pulling her towards him, then turning and shouldering Rayla. She felt the grip on her other sword disappear.

The fight barely lasted half a minute. Rayla flew and fell by the princes’ side, shaken by the powerful body slam and the consequent fall. She was confused why both of them stood still and did nothing, especially Callum who didn’t even have his Primal Stone out. Weren’t they shaking a minute ago? She was left even more confused when Francis moved his sword behind his head and sheathed it behind his back.

She didn’t move, uncertain of what would happen next. He moved towards her blades that he disarmed so gracefully and precisely. Surely he wasn’t going to slay her with her own swords. Was he going to slay the princes with her swords, framing her in the process? Either way, she was defeated and left defenceless on the ground. Her last hope was that Francis would mishandle her sword he was holding and hurt himself. But the surprises kept coming, as he elegantly rotated the sword and closed its blade, just like a Moonshadow assassin would. He then walked towards the other sword and picked it up, getting the opportunity to showcase his skills of handling Moonshadow weaponry again.

He strode towards Rayla… and presented her swords to her. “I would offer you my hand and help you get up, but I believe you wouldn’t take it. May I present to you your arms as an alternative?” Rayla rather reluctantly rose up using the hilt of the swords he presented. It was somewhat of a middle ground Francis thought. “I warned you not to do this, in any case that was a great display.” The softness in his eyes returned, as he seemed cheery… like he didn’t just come out of a fight. “Your weapons are also in great shape.”

“That was amazing!” Ezran and Callum applauded, much to the disgruntled Rayla. She hated that she was on the losing side, but she also couldn’t make sense of anything.

“Can anyone explain to me, in the name of Xadia, what’s going on?”

“Francis is the best warrior Katolis and by extension the Human Kingdoms ever produced,” Callum said, clearly excited and shaking from his presence. Ever since the meeting after the Pentarchy Tournament, Callum pictured him many times as what Callum should have been as a prince. Leading people and always in the frontlines, in regal shining armour, with posture that exuded bravery and confidence, made all the more pronounced by his wide chest, firm and looming shoulders and his intimidatingly muscly arms, that held an exquisite, sharp as his wits and iconic forelock, longsword. A self-less, unstoppable, unbending hero.

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far, Prince Callum, let’s just say…” Francis tried to intervene, but Callum continued not even hearing his interjection.

“There were rumours, that you later confirmed whilst speaking to the public in a tavern, that for months you spent long nights honing in your fighting skills and disarming techniques.”

“Yes,” Francis for the first time looked a little flustered, as he glanced sideways, but it was only for a moment. “That’s still true.”

“He became the disarming master and was noted as a fierce fighting force to be reckoned with, which was shown on full display in The Pentarchy Tournament.” Callum was non-stop, as a very audible and exasperated sigh was heard from Francis. Clearly this wasn’t his first time hearing someone go through this spiel. “After that tournament, he became extremely well known across the Pentarchy. He singlehandedly fought and defeated three people at once and led the Katolis army to capture and defend the fort during the faction battles. He was the winner of the warrior’s singles and doubles duels and then he ran away four years ago!” Callum didn’t even bat an eye at the last part, unlike Rayla who grimaced quizzically. Callum was still unwaveringly enthusiastic. “He was seen helping total strangers against bandits, so much so that his name became synonymous with ‘help’ and ‘stopping trouble’ and then he totally disappeared!” Again his shining enthusiasm didn’t dim. In truth, after that the list could go on and on that Francis could fill in himself, but he needed to stop this and move the conversation forward.

“I crossed the border and spent last four years travelling and studying Xadia – intellectual curiosity.” Francis summarised concisely and precisely. He turned to Rayla. “You might’ve felt slow in that fight, but trust me, you weren’t. I just predicted your every single move.” Rayla couldn’t sense any arrogance that she thought would be part of his pompous outlook, which was the case with other humans she had seen. In fact Francis spoke precisely and practically. “A common Moonshadow elf tactic is to throw the main forces in a pinpoint location, while a cover force attacks from behind,” that explained to Rayla why Francis blocked her attack when she used the tree. “Which is why I turned my back towards you. Your misdirecting manoeuvre was encouraged from the start.”

Rayla crossed her arms. She got totally outplayed and deconstructed down to the minute details. This stranger even expected the fight from the very start! Why was she so predictable?

“That’s so fascinating!” Ezran beamed, impressed by Francis’s perception. “But you said you wanted to help?”

“Yes, Prince Ezran,” Francis said explaining his journey from Katolis to this point here. Rayla felt disheartened that she never managed to notice the presence of this human. It was impossible to ignore Francis now, especially his very present voice. So how did he even manage to stay hidden before? “I know you are trying to deliver the egg of the Dragon King. It will prevent the war from happening. I know the quickest way to Xadia, which will save you precious time. That egg will also definitely attract some attention, so I suspect whoever had it will send out someone to stop us. I could help protect us,” Francis glanced at Rayla. “Plus, Rayla could definitely use a pair of extra hands.”

When she caught his eyesight he saw them flick to her binding immediately. His face hardened a little, as his eyes hinted her the question that was on his mind. Her eyes pleaded with his as she indiscreetly shook her head. _Please don’t tell them_.

His face changed instantly returning to the warm and friendly expression it was before.

“Yes, please join us,” Callum blurted out, not even consulting with Rayla or Ezran.

“And please, you don’t have to call us ‘Prince’ every single time.” Ezran supported his brother.

Francis took a knee before the princes. “I shall serve the king’s children with my life and a pure heart. Let Katolis and Rayla of Silvergrove be my witnesses.” He swore an oath with a bowed head.

Rayla’s face was blank throughout all of this. She probably could put up with another human, considering he didn’t kill any of them or the fact that he didn’t tell them about King Harrow, but it was all just too fast. She opened her mouth to voice her concerns, but Francis anticipated her once again.

“I suspect Rayla, might have something to say against this,” he said when he got up on his feet. “You should all agree on this if you want me to join your party.” Francis turned to face Rayla. “Rayla, before you make a decision, I want to say something to you, after that you can tell me to leave or stay and I will respect it.” Rayla remained silent and expectant, allowing him to continue. Francis presented to her his hands and wrists, with his palms facing the sky. “Now I know that I don’t have them and it’s not exactly the same as what you say during this ritual, but I’m not sure it would work that way.” It didn’t matter that it wasn’t exactly the same, the situation required an altered approach. Rayla didn’t understand what he meant. She did however notice a weird scar going across his callous palms, which was completely straight. It also looked like it was repeatedly reopened. Francis clenched his fists and looked at her, deeply and intensely in the eye. Neither of them dared to blink, afraid to sever the connection that Francis tried to establish. He sighed and announced firmly and confidently. “I give up my breath for freedom! My eyes for truth! My strength for honour! My blood for justice! My heart for Xadia!” Rayla’s eyes widened. Francis kept surprising her, he even knew of the binding ritual. “Life is precious and valuable, it must be protected!” An oath, to carry the mission and protect the Dragon Prince, was given like a Moonshadow elf with a slight human touch.

He put his hands to his sides. He was about to ask her a question, but she called it. “You have the word of a Moonshadow elf and you know the risks of your oath. You can join us!” she said.

“Thank you.” Francis seemed relieved, as he hurriedly turned and walked back towards the lonely tree. He restlessly moved on, as his mind was now focusing on another problem. “You’re all still wet, we should set up camp and get a fire going, considering it’s nightfall soon. I wouldn’t want you to freeze or anything.”

“One question?” Ezran asked. Francis stopped and listened carefully. “Is it true that you have beaten up four guys in a tavern with a stool?” Callum suddenly leaned forward eager to hear his answer, while Rayla’s face was again riddled in confusion.

Yet again Francis sighed, clearly exasperated with the amount of times he got asked that question when he was in the Western Xadia. He took a deep breath and fired off his response, like it was memorised.

“Yes. The first mistake they made, is that only one of them approached and sat at the table with me. One guy was behind me, one to the side and one behind the guy who sat opposite me. When they couldn’t be reasoned with and a fight was unavoidable, I made the first move. I flipped the table to pin the first guy. I kicked the guy to the side in the chest and the fall rendered him unconscious. I grabbed a stool and put it between my ribs and the knife of the guy behind me. I twisted his arm and gave him a right hook to put him to sleep. The last guy had a sword. I blocked his attack with the stool, kneed him and then hit him over his head with that stool breaking it and leaving me with just its leg. The guy was unconscious. Then I used that leg to knock out the guy who was pinned by the table and about to get up.” Francis finally took a breath. “It certainly served me well as a shield,” he remarked. “Albeit a little too short.”

Francis turned leaving the trio with slackened jaws, speechless. They couldn’t believe he said that in one breath, so quickly and most importantly that it was all true and possible. A stool, really?!

“Oh,” Francis jerked, remembering something. “And yes, I did pay the barman for the damage I caused.”

* * *

Francis was right, the cold did bite quite a bit. If Rayla hid it well, then the boys were shivering. He quickly set up a campfire, the act clearly became second nature to him long ago. Despite a chilly evening, Francis rolled up his sleeves. He could feel their eyes inspecting some of the scratches, bruises, cuts and scars that became visible as a result. It was unusual to be in the presence of other people in such a previously private environment, but he knew this wasn’t the last time they would get to assess his… misjudgements.

He cooked himself and the group some fish, with Ezran by his side offering to help. Callum and Rayla sat on the opposite sides of the campfire. Callum was attentive, soaking in every single word Francis uttered. Rayla on the other hand was being a typical Moonshadow elf and was a little uneasy at a presence of another stranger, especially a human one. He didn’t blame her, she was being outnumbered now and things were a little more out of her control. It was an uneasiness he felt many times before on his travels. The group, or the team as Francis started to call them despite a few eye rolls, shared their stories. The trio explained the events that led to the discovery of the Dragon Egg and filled in on everything that led them to their meeting with Francis, while Francis talked about his adventures and Eastern Xadia. He occasionally joked, giving out hearty and infectious laughs, warming the atmosphere just as much as the fire was. Rayla’s eyes lit up at any mention of Eastern Xadia, but she was giving him a glare every now and then. Francis caught on and deciphered it.

“I think Rayla is going to take my pinkies off, if I spoil anything more about Xadia.” He joked. Considering how much he talked about Xadia, he might as well have been an elf all his life and at the very least should have replicated their hands. There was something pleasant and sweet about these kids having a laugh, despite the current world situation. In fact, ever since he followed them from The Banther Lodge, Francis never heard them all laugh so much at once. By the looks on their faces, they certainly missed it as well.

He suddenly felt his cheeks and neck itching like crazy. He remembered that a week has passed and it was time again. He stood up. “Hey, team, I need to do something, I’m just going to go to the river. Princ…” Francis managed to stop himself at the last moment, remembering Ezran’s request. Considering how much tact and court idiosyncrasies were drilled into him, it would be very awkward for him not to call Prince Callum and Ezran by their proper titles, despite him being senior. “Ezran, make sure the fish isn’t on fire when I come back, okay?” He patted a motivated and grinning Ezran on the shoulder, further breaking the overbearing court mannerisms his mother sunk into him. He continued jokingly. “In the meantime you should all dry your backs while I’m gone. I would prefer to continue talking about my adventures to your faces, rather than your spines.” He smirked and grabbed his backpack on the way out.

Rayla was not entirely sure if he kept something secret or not. In order to calm herself down, she excused herself and without alerting Francis, followed him. She jumped lightly along the tree branches, barely letting her feet touch the bark, until she finally spotted him. Francis stopped doing whatever he was doing and stood still. Rayla held her breath, hoping that she wasn’t heard and to her relief the pause was very brief – Francis resumed his activity. It was then in the dark, Rayla realised that Francis wasn’t wearing his shirt… was he washing his clothes? Indeed he was, and it looked like he also got out a little bowl and crushed some leaves in it. She wondered what those were for. After some time, when she was convinced that Francis wouldn’t do anything suspicious, she returned to the camp. The boys looked much drier now, their warmth beckoned her to the campfire reminding herself that she wasn’t totally dry yet.

To everyone’s surprise, Francis returned topless. He had dark green trousers on, which he rolled up to his knees. With his bristle now gone, Francis looked like he shaved a few years off and youth was now plastered on his face and not just in his eyes. His lean and muscly upper body was now on full display, exposing the numerous cuts and more scars to the group. In fact he was riddled in them, attesting to the experience he got and the mistakes he made in his still short but vivid life. There were a few nasty and long ones, but most of the wounds healed well, looking now like little scratches. There was some sort of leafy green paste rubbed into his more fresh wounds, revealing that it must have had some healing purposes.

There was a little uncomfortable tension in the air. Rayla remained fairly composed, it was very unusual for her kind to be so open and vulnerable, but she got somewhat used to the elves treating their wounds and cuts during her first mission. While Ezran didn’t particularly care, Callum was a little uncomfortable. Francis suspected that, since Callum clearly looked up to him, he was maybe disheartened by his own body. The kid definitely lacked confidence.

“I’m sorry if some of you are a little uncomfortable,” he said to the group, but in reality it only applied to Callum. “These cuts are very recent, two weeks old in fact, and I needed to treat them. I need the paste to dry off so I have to keep my shirt off for a bit.” Francis explained, then he rubbed his hands excitedly. “Now let’s dig in!”

The dinner was well prepared, Francis definitely had the experience to be able to cook anything at this point, even mentally noting everything down to a decimal point: temperature, time, ratios and so on. He offered Rayla some of the fish out of courtesy. He knew elves didn’t eat any kind of meat and to be fair why would they, when they had super nutritious fruits instead. It would be a little pointless to kill cute magical animals and Francis mostly adopted the super nutritious plant based diet, but still, even after travelling all over Xadia, he couldn’t deny the bustling amount of protein in fish. If he felt cheekily luxurious, he could call having meat an off day. Besides, it would have been a waste to let the fish rot in the river.

He finally put a sky blue shirt with a darker blue stripe going down the middle, where his buttons were, which made Callum visibly more relaxed. There, as always, was his family’s symbol on the left side of his chest in red colours. The same fiery red colours formed patterns on his collar and end of his short sleeves.

Callum and Rayla were a little too tired to chat, so instead they opted to listen to Francis’s stories. The interest was already undeniably present in Callum, but Rayla certainly grew warmer to Francis with each passing minute. The campfire refused to dim, clearly fuelled by Francis’s theatrical tone and animated gestures… well, he also threw more and more logs into it. The retelling of Francis’s adventures slowly turned into a conversation with Ezran, who still had energy to talk. Even for Rayla seeing Ezran laugh and have so much fun talking to Francis was heart-warming, even more warming than the cosy heat coming off of the campfire.

Francis even played with him a little. “You want to see a magic trick?” Francis flicked his head to the side in a downwards motion to reveal the pencil he nicked from Callum in his palm. He presented it to a very excited Ezran. All this time, it was hidden in the incredible mess that was his hair, just behind his ears. Ezran kept giggling and Callum tried to look exasperated, but he was too tired to hide his amusement and surprise. That was until he opened and immersed himself in his sketchbook to begin depicting today’s events. Rayla was also impressed with his sleight of hand, he was fairly nifty in his wiles for a human… resourceful, even.

“You have such big legs,” Ezran suddenly said to Francis. “But everyone keeps making fun of my little excuse for legs.”

“Hey, Ez,” Francis said softly. Callum lifted his head in shock, interrupting his drawing of them around the campfire. Only he ever called Ezran by his shorter name, ‘Ez’. Both of them liked the sweet ring to it. Francis was moving forward incredibly quickly for someone they just met, granted Callum and Ezran were briefly introduced to him after the tournament. But as long as Ezran was fine with it, then Callum was too. Francis continued. “These legs have been through a lot, so they had to become like this. You wait until you grow up and maybe your legs will be even bigger than mine.”

“Really?” Ezran looked at him reassured, as he inspected Francis’s calves. “How did you get this scar?”

Francis gave a quick look, but he could guess which one he talked about. “I got this scar nearly two years ago from a fight with _Ater Bestia_ ,” Rayla perked her head at that, surprised to hear him pronounce Ancient Draconic so well. “However, it is unfortunately more commonly known as _Cheetigator_ ” He scoffed, further indicating his dislike for the nickname. “When I jumped over it, the beast must’ve managed to catch my leg, but I haven’t noticed it. I only did in the evening when I saw that my boots and trousers were completely stained with blood.” Failing to treat the wound quickly ensured a very slow healing process and Francis learned to inspect himself after every fight in case his mind or body didn’t register a hit. Francis regarded Ezran’s confused stare. “Yes, _Cheetigator_ is not a made up name… it’s a very stupid name.”

“No, I was confused why you got in a fight with _Ater_ … something-something, in the first place?”

“ _Ater Bestia_ ,” Francis corrected him. “It attacked a family of Earthblood elves,” Rayla sat up again, even inching to the side of the log that was closer to Francis. “I couldn’t leave them to die…”

“Did they thank you?” Ezran asked.

 _Why did Ezran have to ask that question?_ Francis weighed up his options.

“The kid did…” he said, after a prolonged pause.

“But not his parents? Why?”

“They didn’t trust me, thought there was a hidden motive to me saving them. All they knew about humans was that we are a disease that needs to be purged away. That we are monsters.” Francis explained, feeling a slight pang in his chest.

“But you risked your own life to save them. I don’t get it, it’s not fair!” Ezran looked furious. Francis’s chest hurt more.

“I don’t blame you, Ez. I totally agree with you, but nothing changes that quickly. Their perception was rooted in them for their entire lives, it will take more than one act of courage and bravery to make them see differently. It’ll take more than one person too,” Francis said the last sentence in a quieter, more sombre tone.

“That is wrong. Me and my dad will make sure that that never happens. Whatever it takes, we will complete this journey and I will do everything to tell every elf on our way that we are good, even if they threaten my life.” Ezran proclaimed. Francis believed him, but it absolutely killed him inside when he mentioned Harrow. Rayla seemed to have stiffened as well, suffering from the same pain.

“You’re a brave and compassionate boy, Ezran. Your selflessness is a great strength.” Francis told him. Ezran looked up at Francis with caring and affectionate eyes and then he couldn’t stop himself from hugging him. It made Francis convinced that Ezran needed to be told those things more often. In fact, right now, he almost wished to be in Callum’s shoes and have a little brother.

When Ezran pulled away, Francis noticed how heavy Ezran’s eyelids were. Callum also couldn’t stop making audible yawns. “Tell you what, Ez, why don’t you grab your brother and go to sleep.” Ezran was about to resist and whine, but Francis reassured him. “We can pick up this conversation tomorrow.” Ezran defeatedly nodded. Callum didn’t put up much of a fight, when Ezran tugged him along to sleep. Francis and Rayla watched them tuck themselves in, under a large tree root. For the first time in a while, it went silent.

That silence reminded Francis of the gnawing guilt that grew deep inside him. He couldn’t leave it unsaid.

“I’m sorry for bringing up your parents earlier. I didn’t know what had happened to them.”

“Thanks, but it doesn’t really matter,” she tried to play off the effect it had on her feelings, but Francis was having none of it.

“No. It does matter, considering how this makes you feel. I really do hope that maybe, just maybe, we don’t know the full story. Your bravery had to have come from somewhere.” Rayla felt a little uncomfortable, but she absolutely appreciated his compliment. She did consider it a shame that Francis’s hopefulness was completely unfounded, he probably knew that himself. “Unfortunately, I can’t know for sure, but at least I hope it’s some form of consolation.”

Rayla felt a little exposed. He anticipated things from her so well, it was like he was able to read her mind. Frankly, it made her a little annoyed. His words weakly comforted her, but she appreciated his thought and even more when Francis didn’t press on and left it at that. After a few more seconds of silence, Francis spoke again. This time he was a little more forthright. “I need to know: who’s the binding for?”

“Why do you want to know?” She immediately felt the binding on her wrist after Francis mentioned it. She managed to forget about it after all this time. Rayla rubbed her bound wrist, keeping the blood flow circulating.

“We’re on the same side and we’re together now. I know the nature of those bindings. I would like to know who’s life you’re refusing to take.” From the serious tone in his voice, Rayla gathered that Francis was not going to be deterred easily, if at all. Still, Rayla tried to hide the truth.

“Why do you think I’m refusing to kill?” She winced, feeling the binding tighten.

Unshaken, Francis continued unwaveringly. “Because you refused to take Marcos’s life, so I suspect history is repeating itself.”

Rayla sighed defeatedly. “It is meant for Prince Ezran,” she said quietly, so the princes wouldn’t hear it.

“I see,” Francis pondered. Rayla thought that that would be the end of the conversation, but Francis refused to give up, coming up with an answer, or rather, a proposition. “I have a book ‘Cultures and Traditions of Xadia’, perhaps there will be a passage on how to take them off,” Francis thought out loud.

“Either I kill or lose my hand. There is no other way!” Rayla refused to believe him.

“We should try.” Francis said, sounding resolute.

“You think I didn’t try?” Rayla asked, her voice devoid of hope. “It’s pointless. It’s a waste of time.”

“I didn’t take you for the one who gave up so easily.” Francis teased her slightly.

“It’s the egg that’s what’s important, not my hand.” Rayla said adamantly. She wasn’t sure, but she didn’t feel her binding as acutely as she did before, after saying that.

“You do realise that your loss will be ours too?” Rayla sensed a lecturing coming up from Francis, even if he sounded genuine.

“Why do you care and why does that matter?” Rayla bit back.

“Because from this point on we’re on the same team.” Francis continued patiently. “Our problems will certainly have an impact on you and visa-versa.”

Rayla was sceptical, even if deep down a quiet inner voice told her that there was something so right and logical in his words. She refused her feelings to rule her, hiding behind the wall that was her identity of a Moonshadow assassin. “I doubt that,” Rayla looked away.

“If you truly do, then I believe you’ve not being paying close enough attention.” Francis responded calmly. “I know you followed me when I left the camp,” there was no judgement in his voice.

“No I did not!” Rayla said quickly. _How did he…?_

“Rayla,” Francis continued calmly. “You keep forgetting that I am no ordinary human. I’ve spent four years travelling on my own. I can tell apart nature from disturbance. I know how the leaves shuffle when the wind blows through them and when there’s an elf jumping on the branches.”

“What are you trying to get at?” Rayla asked impatiently.

“I understand why you did it. You checked that I really was doing what I said I would, better be safe than sorry. I understand that, because I know the particular qualities of Moonshadow elves. Let’s say if Callum found out you followed him, he may see this as an invasion of privacy. Callum and Ezran simply do not fully understand you.”

“They don’t need to understand me,” Rayla still hid behind her wall.

“They do.” Francis disagreed. “That’s what teams do and that’s where trust comes from. Rayla, I get that what you did is a very good thing. You could’ve brought the egg back without them and you had many chances to backstab them, but you’re a good person and you appreciate the impact that the gesture of two human princes bringing the egg back could have.” The genuine tone in his voice made Rayla relax a little. Was she finally being understood? The inner voice now was a little louder, and not buried as deeply as it was before. “But just because you didn’t steal it, isn’t enough to gain their trust.”

“Why?” Rayla’s mind overpowered the inner voice. “We have the same aim, we’re on the same journey, there’s nothing else going on!”

“Because you are forgetting that they’re not Moonshadow elves,” Francis sounded a little more impatient now. “Just like they’re forgetting that you are not a human. You haven’t been randomly chosen to go on a mission and complete that assignment. They are humans and they differ a little from your kind. A promise isn’t enough to fully gain trust. They can sense when you’re hiding something and that will cause suspicion and tension, especially as something as obvious and serious as that binding.”

“A promise should be enough to gain trust.” Rayla argued, refusing to hear Francis’s point. Yet again, she managed to hold back her wince. “We all agreed to go on this journey! We have a common goal, they don’t need to know personal things about me to rely on me.”

“That’s not the same thing, Rayla!” Francis gave way a little into frustration. “You Moonshadow elves just love treating things separately, when in reality everything is connected!”

“What does that supposed to mean?” Rayla crossed her arms. She was more confused than insulted.

“That is a conversation for a different night, but no matter,” Francis regained his composure, as he continued explaining. “You’ve described obligation not trust. Just reason, please? You have been told to hate us and we have been told to hate you, look no further than what Callum said at The Banther Lodge. I’m willing to bet you’re the first Moonshadow elf Callum and Ezran ever met and ever since your first meeting, you’ve both been proving each other’s stereotypes wrong. So of course him and Ezran would be interested to find out what Moonshadow elves really are, but most importantly the real you.” She heard the inner voice squeak in joy, trying to get her to listen to it. “Communication and trust are a two way street. You cannot expect them to tell things about themselves, without telling them a little bit about yourself.”

“I don’t want them to know about this,” Rayla confessed, feeling the pain in her bound arm numb slightly.

“So how long are you planning to keep hiding it? Eventually you won’t function well with that hand and more questions are going to pile up.” Rayla knew that Francis was right about this, but she was anxious of what may happen if she didn’t pick the perfect opportunity to tell them.

“There are other things that are more important. They’ll just have to accept it and carry on as they would normally,” Rayla’s bound wrist began to tirelessly throb.

“Without knowing you? Hah, why do these words sound so familiar? Am I having a conversation with myself?” Francis said sarcastically, then sighed. “Look, they can’t carry on like they would normally, because this situation is unusual, abnormal even. _You_ are a big part of that abnormality. They care about you and your wellbeing, just like you do about them. I am certain they just want to help, but they won’t know how if you keep everything behind closed doors, behind a wall… which isn’t the real you. Some things have got to come out.”

“Things that have nothing to do with the egg do not need to be mentioned,” Rayla remained stubborn.

“Rayla, they’re not Moonshadow elves and that attitude is going to cause problems, because that is not how teams function!” Francis said, his voice was a little rigid.

“Our assassin teams function. Our mind is dead set on completing the mission, nothing less, nothing more,” Rayla doubted her own words for a split second. That couldn’t be entirely true, otherwise how come she rebelled, switched allegiances? What about her parents running away? She immediately shook those questions off, not entirely convinced, labelling them as exceptions due to the abnormality of the situation. “We are driven and determined and we do not need to ask about each other’s lives to make sure we rely and give everything and more for each other and for the mission.”

“They are not Moonshadow elves. This is not an assassination mission. And I do not believe that you would follow everything blindly,” Francis replied, clearly sensing her doubt. “How can you expect Callum and Ezran to oblige, when even you yourself went against your mission when you found out that the egg was alive. You’re not just a bunch of individuals, you’re together and your actions and words can have an effect on each other.” Her slight hesitation to immediately respond gave away to Francis that she was coming around to understanding him. It was painfully slow, but it was progress.

“That is different,” she said unconvincingly, giving into her characteristic stubbornness.

“It’s not, really,” Francis sighed. The conversation had ran its course and Rayla clearly couldn’t quite see the idea of trust, expression and teamwork he was trying to relay to her. It would be too easy to change her Moonshadow elf perspective in one night; she would need time to change.

Why did everything that was so crucial require so much precious time? At the very least she didn’t seem like a typical Moonshadow elf and that maybe if faced with a challenge she would be able to connect the dots, perhaps even act like she truly felt. Years of harsh judgement were certainly the cause of this closed behaviour.

Francis continued a little more relaxed, he didn’t want to drive her into the ground. “Even telling a little will help. You don’t have to open yourself fully to them, but just saying the more obvious and simple things will go a long way into them accepting you for who you are.”

“I’m afraid they won’t understand me,” Rayla confessed, opening her door just that little bit more.

“How can you know that if you haven’t even tried?” Francis reasoned, but it did look like she spoke from experience. In terms of life, if not in terms of the princes.

“If I tell them about the binding, then they will inevitably make the conclusion about the second one. Even if they won’t, how am I going to tell them that King Harrow is dead? How will it affect the mission?” Rayla held her head, as the pain eased in her wrist.

“If you want, I can tell them,” Francis offered out of courtesy, but he knew it was her who should break the news, for her and the princes’ benefit.

“No! I will be the one to tell them about it!” She spoke with an unconditional tone. “Promise to me you won’t tell them anything about King Harrow!” She looked him in the eyes, just to make sure he wasn’t going to break his promise.

“I promise… but you do realise the longer you hide the truth, the more damage it could cause?” Rayla needed to realise that it wasn’t going to be easy, nor would there be a perfect time to tell them something so grave.

“I do, but I have no idea how to tell them,” Rayla conceded. She decided to deal with that by putting it off until later, focusing on what she thought was more important. “Either way, we should worry about the Dragon Egg and the journey ahead. We should get some sleep.”

Francis agreed… on the sleeping part. In reality both of those things were equally important. “I assume you’ve been staying up late to do the perimeter checks?” Francis said it more as a statement rather than a question. Rayla nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll do the first one,” but Francis waved her towards the tree, where the princes slept.

“No need, you must be tired after such a day. I’ll stay up for tonight, besides I’m not really tired.”

Rayla didn’t object. She thought it was a nice change of pace to not be the one on guard duty. Besides, he was right, she really needed some sleep right about now.

“Okay, fine,” she conceded in a typical Rayla fashion. “Thanks.”

“Good night, Rayla.” He said caringly, with a warm smile on his face.

“Good night, Francis.” She replied with equal care, as she nestled herself on the root of the tree, above the boys.

Francis’s smile grew. It were such simple words, someone’s voice just wishing a good night, but it was the simple things Francis missed the most nowadays. Being away, travelling on his own for the past four years, amongst other things, made him grow close and affectionate to these kids really quickly. Quicker than he even expected. He repeated in his head the simple words of good night. His smile did not change, when those words slowly turned from caring to ironic. It was not going to be a good nor a calm night for Francis… yet again.

* * *

Viren finally managed to heave the mirror down the spiral staircase. The curtain that draped over it, certainly added to the weight he had to carry.

“I could give you a hand, but you know, I am a little constricted myself.” Gren said cheerfully, even in dire situations he committed to looking on the bright side. Viren ignored him, pushing the heavy mirror into Runnan’s chamber.

He was just as Viren left him, on his knees and with his head down. Viren noticed the elf’s hand, it was nearly black. When the elf didn’t look up to acknowledge him, Viren coughed. Runnan lifted his head slightly, but he didn’t regard Viren. An obvious contempt was written on Runnan’s eyes.

“Look, elf,” Viren said with disgust in his voice. “I need you to tell me what this is. If and once you do, I will let you walk free out of this castle.” Runnan did not dignify him with a response. Not only he didn’t believe Viren, but he also had no intentions of telling him anything. Viren knelt down and produced a pouch. “I have brought you some ‘motivation’ that I hope will make you reconsider your stubbornness.” Viren shook the pouch and it made a sound of coins colliding together, trying to escape. Runnan responded with a small condescending chuckle.

“You’re more foolish than I thought, don’t you know only humans can be bribed. Elves are not materialistic, unlike humans.”

“Oh,” Viren said in an ominous tone, as he produced two coins out of the constricting pouch. “This is not a bribe. Quite the contrary… it’s a threat.” He stretched his arm out in front of the elf showcasing the two coins to him. “Go on, take a closer look.”

Runnan was sceptical, but decided to look at this ‘threat’ anyway. He squinted a little, then blinked…again… and again. Horror swarmed his face, his fate was going to be etched into the faces of these coins! These atrocious things were produced by and solely used for Dark Magic. Anguish was written across the faces of the two elves who were in the coins.

It all made sense to him now. Back then he really didn’t want to believe it, because these two elves, whom he knew very well, were always brave. But there was no other way to explain it, aside from acts of cowardice… until now. These coins were the crucial missing clue. After all this time, all of them, all of the Silvergrove were wrong. Distress grew deep inside him, but he held well. He thought of his husband, Ethari, who was always in his heart, making him strong.

“You’re a monster,” Runnan scowled.  
“No,” Viren replied. “I’m a pragmatist.” He stood up, thinking that his threat had worked. “Now, tell me what this is!” He unveiled the mirror before him.

Silence fell upon the room. Viren watched the elf’s eyes widen and his shoulders faintly drop. Runnan knew what that mirror was and the ancient evil that it held. He knew the danger it kept and the threat it poised to the world. It seemed to Runnan that this Dark Mage was clueless about the value of this mirror. He debated whether he should tell him, warn him about the entity it held. He was uneasy even at the thought of mentioning it. He knew if he told even a little ounce of truth, the mage would pile up more questions. What if he would exploit the secrets of the mirror?  
“Enough brooding, elf, tell me or you will meet the same fate.” Viren said impatiently. With a heavy sigh, Runnan finally came up with an answer he was satisfied with. “You’ve succeeded,” Runnan began gravely.  
“Oh,” Viren uttered with a sense of accomplishment, but also a hint of confusion. “Have I?”  
“You have found something worse than death,” Runnan shook his head at the mirror. “Far worse than death.” Viren frowned, as his sense of accomplishment diminished. The coins, which he thought would certainly make him talk, didn’t actually affect him. His pride took offence to that. Either way he still had something that he thought the elf was scarred of, but he missed the point of the elf’s warning. Viren continued speaking impatiently.  
“Then, tell me exactly what it is?”  
Runnan sighed, picturing Ethari’s face one last time, as he exclaimed. “I will never help you!” He was a victor and he was ready for the price he had to pay, as his last words echoed around the chamber.  
“Then you’re of no use to me,” Viren sneered. He stomped the stone cold floor with his staff and began chanting.

Runnan looked fearlessly into his eyes, his mind only thinking of Ethari. He saw the Mage’s eyes glow purple, as he noticed iridescent light coming from his staff. He yelled a battle cry, as his last act, preparing himself for the pain. The light slowly reached out towards his body and as soon as it did it began to consume him. He could feel his physical presence disappearing, as his body was slowly vaporised from the inside. His soul was being slowly sucked into the empty coin, as he turned more and more hollow. It began to burn unbearably and Runnan couldn’t contain it any longer. He let out a bellowing cry. He wanted it to stop, to get it over with, but he guessed it was the Mage’s revenge for making King Harrow suffer a slow and bleeding death. After what felt like ages for Runnan, there was a white blinding flash and then... silence.

* * *

  
Silence fell upon the room. Gren, who heard the horrid screams, wondered if that was standard protocol, if that fate would befall him… whatever it was exactly. A dark brooding figure emerged, his eyes still glowed purple. The shoulders were slumped and his back was hunched. Gren wouldn’t be able to recognise who it was, if he hadn’t seen Lord Viren enter before. The High Mage looked horrific and barely recognisable, the purple hue from his eyes now dimmed. His hair turned completely grey and his skin likewise. In fact it was extremely pale and withered. Wrinkles infested his face and his previously grey eyes were black and hollow.

He limped towards the spiral staircase, leaning more onto his staff than usual. He was so drained that even lifting and dragging it took a great deal of effort. Viren proudly looked at his new prisoner he held between his index and middle fingers. It was amazing how every single time, no matter what elf he captured, he always caught the same expression – defiance giving way into absolute fear.

Viren ignored Gren’s horrified face, as he heavily rose up the steps. His state was evidence of the many years of practice, mistakes, or misjudgements as he preferred to call it, of Dark Magic. It took a toll on him, but one he thought was necessary for the greater good of others and humanity. It was a shame Lissa, his wife, had never seen it that way… even after he saved their constantly sickly son and got this withered look for the first time. He had a practical way to restore his appearance – Sunray Monarch, a Xadian butterfly. He had a whole collection of them stored in his quarters. Lissa however thought his restoration was fake, that it didn’t make a difference and concealed his true nature, leaving their family as a result. In his mind, he laughed at her, if she was here to see what he had achieved with Dark Magic ever since. He prevented starvation saving a hundred thousand people from the kingdoms of Katolis and Duren. He ended the tyranny of Thunder and now he rid the world of one more dirty elf.

Was it really all worth it? Despite saving his son’s life, he lost Lissa. The three Queens had died for the greater good of their kingdoms, Queen Sarai saving his. At least her dying breath that he collected in a jar was crucial to the spell that defeated Thunder. However, he gave into temptation and didn’t kill the Dragon Egg, meaning it was now lost, out there and could fall into the hands of elves, wasting his efforts against Thunder. If that egg was to ever hatch, then the dragon’s name would be Vengeance… and humanity would be wiped out.

Viren realised he was standing still at the top of the stairs. He moved on. He told himself that the ends always justified the means and everything can be solved by Dark Magic. In this fight he lost so much already… what had he become? That didn’t matter. He saved humanity and he would always do anything to save humanity.

* * *

_Knock…_ Francis ignored it as he maniacally flipped through the book, with his back dug up against the tree. He ferociously searched the pages unwaveringly scanning the words for a hint that could help Rayla. He found the passage about Moonshadow elves, which was countless pages long, but the book never specified nor divided the passage into simpler bits and subheadings. It was a structural mess. Everywhere he travelled he seemed to constantly clash with some forms of aforementioned mess, especially in places he never expected. Just like Katolis, the once greatest and most advanced kingdom was stagnating in its own inconsistencies and lack of a clear direction. Their library a paramount example of it.

Francis stopped himself from delving deeper down, focusing on tracing the pages while he still had light from the campfire. He worked tirelessly, while the trio slept soundly. Francis felt his eyes squint more and more, until he realised that the embers were dying. He sighed, finally pausing his pursuit of finding a way out. He put the book down and took his sword out. It calmed his nerves a little.

Slowly the world around was put into total darkness. He listened carefully for anything out of the ordinary, his body gaining a heightened sense of feeling. He closed his eyes. It was silent… but then… _Knock… Knock…_ It didn’t surprise him; this wasn’t the first time it happened. Francis wondered if he himself was his own worst enemy. Left alone to his thoughts, the emptiness inside him began to whine back at him. Then again it knocked on his conscious. _Knock… Knock…. Knock…_

He felt, then saw, the well-known fiery orange eyes staring at him, as though as they were real. Four years ago he swore on this ambitious, almost impossible mission to try and bring humans and elves to coexistence. He achieved, learned and discovered so much in that time, like he never thought was possible, considering how intense he spent the first fourteen years of his life that preceded his oath and subsequent escape. And yet despite all the knowledge, he had no results to show for it.

The emptiness whined back louder at him, knocking at the door touch more impatiently. In fact, now for the last four months humans and elves drifted closer to a bloody war than prosperous peace. The orange eyes evaded him and then disappeared, leaving Francis wondering if that elf ever made it. Francis knew and always told himself that this voyage was never going to be easy, that it would be frustrating and time consuming, but no matter how much he prepared for it, the frustration always gnawed at him endlessly.

_Knock… Knock…. Knock… Knock…_

After four years of no progress, Francis was desperate to act bolder than ever. That was why he returned to Katolis, King Harrow shared some of his views with him and he considered him a friend. They would have been able to reason with each other. Francis was bull-headed enough to want to appear before King Harrow, to propose a revolutionary endeavour that would leave not a dent this time, but an actual mark in the history of relations. But… he was too late.

Instead he found these kids who didn’t fully comprehend the stakes of their actions and their mission. It was just words for them… maybe a symbol, a familiar idealistic set of words that were more complicated to not only carry out, but also preserve. They would be lucky if this got mostly resolved in their lifetime… _Tap-Tap…_ he would be lucky. These actions, these problems would most likely transcend generations, just like it transcended history. Yet they didn’t understand it, didn’t see it his way, the bigger picture. They and many others simply didn’t understand him. It was always easier to assume and much more difficult to fully comprehend ideas and things. It was even more difficult to do something about it.

Francis was truly lonely and isolated, often misunderstood. The emptiness howled even more. His grandma’s words echoed back at him: at the core, every single one of us were lonely, separate. There always had to be some hidden meaning behind his actions. Why couldn’t people just accept that he just wanted good things to happen in life? That it was nothing special and simply a decent thing to do? Just because he was better informed, didn’t mean he was better than them. It simply put him in a better position. It didn’t mean he would exploit it against them, but it did mean that his position should be treaded carefully.

The more he learned the further he raised and drifted away from everyone else, the gap creating noise between them. What if they began to interpret his actions wrongly? He was anxious about possibly becoming arrogant, that he would rise so far up that he would never stop looking down at people. In those moments he remembered his grandma, who reassured that there would always be people who are more knowledgeable in specific areas. But Francis was afraid of something else entirely: not many people possessed so much knowledge in Xadia’s time. Those who did went down in the annals of history and were always remembered by humans and elves… but almost no one ended up well nor were they remembered very fondly. He was afraid of becoming like some of them, he didn’t want to end being like some of them. He was already so far up there, but once he would reach the top levels, Francis would meet _some of them_ and would inevitably join them.

Darkness smiled at him and Francis shut his eyes. The prospect was both chilling and tempting to him and the longer he faced it, the greater both feelings became. However this time Francis was not alone. This time he was with the group of kids who didn’t shun him away. Perhaps not fully realising the dire state of the world wasn’t so bad. Those who know less sleep in bliss… and the kids were sure sleeping blissfully.

The knocking and the howling became quieter. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise, as these kids still needed to grow, just like he needed to grow when he went on this long voyage. The howling stopped. Maybe that was why he already felt them so well, despite the short span of time. They became his responsibility now; they still needed to live a little. He must do everything he could to keep their morale high and shield them from the horrible reality that was the situation of a war-anticipating world. He promised himself to help them grow and slowly drip-feed the necessary information. This was his best chance he could ever have gotten to move a step closer to his mission’s goal.

The knocking finally went away. Francis opened his eyes. He looked at an inscription on the cross-guard, which was in Ancient Draconic: ‘Quod Sumus Eligere’, which meant: ‘We are what we choose’. He made his choice a long time ago. He was not lost, he still truly knew and believed in what he did. He was never the one to give up easily. He searched the dark sky that was lit brightly by the stars, a scene that became memorised in his brain, as he recounted the constellations and the stars across all the different cultures.

After a while he finally noticed that the sky wasn’t as dark as he originally thought it was. He saw strokes of light reaching out from beyond the horizon. He really lost the track of time by reading, guarding and thinking to himself whilst constantly fighting off his ever increasing doubts and fears. He sighed. He needed at least some sleep, as he put his sword away. Francis looked softly at his new sleeping companions. For once, he was going to enjoy this journey with someone else. He would certainly love to interact with them, getting to know them a bit more personally. No matter the difficulty, he would spur them on to keep them and himself going.

He looked up to the sky, took a deep breath and smiled. “Good morning, Xadia.” He said quietly. His sleep was peaceful.

* * *

Rayla woke up earlier than usual; she couldn’t ignore the ache in her hand anymore. She opened up one of her eyes. Her bound wrist was getting purple now and her hand looked a little more clawed. Soon she won’t be able to use that hand and the princes would certainly pile her up with questions. She inspected the boys beneath her, who were sleeping peacefully. She refused to wake them up. Remembering that Francis was now also part of their ‘team’, as he constantly put it, she searched for him, turning over when she failed to spot them by the boys. He was nowhere to be seen. His voluminous backpack was still here, but his clothes, that were drying off all night, were not, most likely packed away. His cape, that he always wore and treated dearly, was also gone. She wondered what that letter G and the crest meant.

 _Snap!_ Her ears perked up, as she sat up sharply; it was the sound of a broken twig being stepped on by someone or something. She drew her swords, hoping it was a false alarm, that it was just Francis or some stray animal. She found the broken twig some distance away from the camp. Her mind refused to rest, as she searched the area.

“Come out, I know you’re here!” Rayla said. The bush to the side shook. Rayla prepared to retaliate. The bush shook a little more… and then a fawn jumped out of it. Rayla breathed a sigh of relief. Putting her blades away, she knelt and scratched the wee cute animal. It nuzzled in her hand and licked her poor wrist. “Thanks, little one, but this is a problem you can’t lick away.” The little deer slowly backed away, as it looked just past Rayla. She sensed that someone was behind her. Before she could jump out of the way, trapping nets fell on top of her and then pulled her up into the air.

“Surprisingly, I thought trapping an elf would be harder than an animal.” It was a voice of a tall dark skinned man with black hair and a turquoise scarf. He twirled his weapon above his head, which looked like a bladed fleur-de-lis, attached to a long chain. He threw the grappling hook at Rayla, who quickly swung her net to dodge it. When the man pulled the hook back, he inadvertently set Rayla free. She whipped out her blades and ran straight at the human. He deflected her strikes, forcing her backwards. Despite being light on armour, the dark skinned man certainly fought like a well-trained soldier.

Rayla backflipped away and ran up the nearest tree. Balance was always her strong suit and the humans could never equal Moonshadow elves in agility and balance… or so she thought. The man used the grappling hook to ascend and once he was on the same branch as her, he used the weapon to snag her foot. She was left dangling upside down from the branch, becoming very aware of the drop that was below them.

“Very clever elf, I appreciate your quick thinking.” His face turned more serious. “I’m only here for the princes. Give me them peacefully and I will let you go. Release your prisoners!”

“They are not my prisoners!” Rayla fought back. “They chose to travel with me.”

“What?” The man was stunned. Rayla escaped his hook, whilst the human was dazzled by her response, landing on the branch below her. “Why would they leave home and travel with an elf no less?”

“Because we are in this together. They’re my friends now.” Rayla said.

“Don’t play your deception games with me.” The human scowled. “After you killed their father there is no possible way they can consider you a friend.” He flung his hook at the branch Rayla was standing on, breaking it. Rayla gave out a little scream and tumbled further down. After a third attempt, she managed to catch onto the last branch before the cliffside below her. Her injured hand was too stiff, letting go off of one of the blades.

“I didn’t kill anyone.” Rayla realised the true meaning of her words only once she heard her say it herself. She was an assassin, who hadn’t taken a life. She was both proud and bothered by this idea.

“Your leader did, what’s the difference?” The human landed on the same branch as her, pressing his tracker’s boot onto her arm. How could the princes befriend an elf, that was also from the team that killed their father?

“Wait,” the human realised something, much to the dissatisfied Rayla. “They don’t even know about King Harrow, do they?” The following silence confirmed it for him. Rayla took her chance and used what remaining strength she had left in her hand, to swing herself up onto the branch and kick the human down to the ground.

After hearing a loud thud, Rayla landed lightly on her feet and darted for her other sword. Thankfully, it didn’t go over the edge of the cliffside. Despite the heavy fall, the man got up quickly. He twirled his chain and flung it at her running feet, tripping her up. She slid, but managed to stop just before the edge.

“C’mon give me a break,” she thought out loud. “How many times do I have to nearly die on this journey?” She saw that the cliffside wasn’t actually too dangerously steep, neither was it a long fall; she could see the ditch at the bottom. The ground along the edge also looked quite soft.

“When they find out about their father, they’ll hate you!” The human snapped her out of her thoughts, getting under her skin.

“Shut up!” Was all she managed to say, but the human was right. _That_ was what she was truly afraid of. They would hate her, scoff her and turn their backs on the mission. She could throw away any chance of their success by telling them the truth. But then she would also inadvertently add salt to injury if they didn’t find out about their father directly from her. How did Francis even expect her to break them the news?

The human casted his weapon again, catching Rayla’s blade. That was the mistake Rayla wanted him to make. She pulled the blade and the chain towards her, subsequently pulling the human as well. She flipped off of the cliffside, taking the human with her. The tracker went over the edge and rolled into the ditch, hitting branches and rocks on the way down. Rayla stuck her blades into the ground halting her descent. It felt good that this time her opponent didn’t predict her every single move; it felt good to win. As she climbed up, she heard the tracker shout.

“Savour your victory elf; next time you wouldn’t be so lucky!” He was caked in cuts and mud.

Rayla gave him a cheeky look and put one of her hands on her hip. “Says the guy in the ditch.” She quipped.

Once she climbed out, she sprinted back towards camp. She couldn’t chance another meeting with this tracker guy. They needed to get as far away from him as possible, as quickly as _humanly_ possible. She believed that the princes’ slow stride and Francis’s hefty looking backpack will slow them down. There was no time to waste and no breath to catch, they would have to leave immediately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, He certainly seems to hold a personal secret of sorts. He is fairly clear on His statement, though. Let me also be clear, although it is early days, I want to make sure that Francis doesn't get an easy time. He will be pressured and tested by all sorts of things, such is his character and such are his choices and stances in life. In fact, you can clearly gather that he already has gone through tough trials. Not to worry, there is more to come... there is always more to come. A leader rarely gets a break, especially during challenging times.


	7. The Pass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With a tracker on their toes, Rayla forced the team to hastily move on in their journey. In order to shake him off and save time, she lead them through a mountain pass. It was unnamed and frankly, unremarkable. What could possibly go wrong?

Ezran’s eyes fluttered open. After spending two nights under the open sky, he finally managed to get a good amount of sleep; he felt more energised than usual. In fact he really wanted to hear more stories from Francis. Ezran thought that he was such a funny and understanding adult, that he wished his peers would be more like Francis. He knew Callum really wanted to be like him a lot, as he spotted Callum depicting Francis’s tournament battles so many times and from multitude of angles. Ezran couldn’t tell exactly, but he felt like whenever he did manage to steal a glance at Callum’s depictions of his older princely self, he felt that there was a mixture of Francis in his drawings. Ezran believed that Francis had to be an extremely popular character who had copious amounts of friends. He did hold himself very well when they met, so he was no stranger to social interactions.

To Ezran’s disappointment, when he got up, Francis wasn’t at the campsite. Rayla was also not present. Ezran scrambled towards Callum.

“Callum, wake up. We’re alone,” he said with great deal of concern, but Callum wasn’t woken up.

“Finally alone,” Callum murmured blissfully. He gripped their food supplies, which was a stack of stale bread, closer to him. He inhaled deeply through his nose. “Your breath still smells like peanut butter.” Ezran knew that Callum was in charge of guarding and carrying food, but when he saw Callum press his lips against the bread, he thought that Callum took his job way too seriously.

“Callum!” Ezran said with a greater sense of urgency, but he was also cringed and weirded out by his brother’s behaviour. Callum opened his eyes, recoiled away from the bread and shot up.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Callum said quickly, looking a little uncomfortable. He noticed Ezran staring at him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You were talking in your sleep,” Ezran explained.

“Did I say something?” Callum feared that he was caught in the act, that never really happened. That would be extra embarssing and maybe even a new low.

“Yeah, you said something about peanut butter…”

“Sandwiches,” Callum intervened. “Yes, I was talking about peanut butter sandwiches!”

“Really?” Ezran looked confused, then pointed out. “You were holding the stack of bread weirdly.”

“I was about to… taste the sandwich,” Callum realised he was not out of the hot waters yet, as he tensed a little more. What else did his brother hear or see? He prayed that he wasn’t too pink in the cheeks. “Of course I was holding onto the bread like it was a nice, beautiful and lovely Cla…” Callum nearly slipped up. “Sandwich.”

“You also…”

“Look,”Callum put a hand on Ezran’s shoulder, stopping his brother from making Callum dig himself a deeper hole. “One day, when you’re much older, we’re going to sit down and have a talk about sandwiches.” Ezran looked at him and nodded, he was finally convinced.

“I guess it makes sense now why you leant and pressed your lips against the bread,” Callum tensed, his heart stopped beating. Why did he had to sleep talk and animate _that_ dream? Worst of all, he got woken up just before the best moment. “You were simply about to eat the sandwich!” Ezran said innocently.

“Yeah, sure,” Callum managed to respond after an awkward silence.

“What did I want to say?” Ezran pondered. “Ah, yes, Rayla and Francis are gone!”

“What?” Callum’s eyes became as wide as plates. “Did she take it?”

“No,” Ezran said before glancing at his backpack and checking if that was actually true. The iridescent glow was still coming out from underneath the flap.

“Phew. Ez, you do realise that this doesn’t change anything?”

“What do you mean?”

“We can’t trust Rayla, because… because,” Callum stammered, unsure of how exactly to put it delicately.

“Because she’s an elf?!” Ezran was apprehensive of Callum’s suggestion. “I don’t care if she’s an elf, everything we’ve been told about them was a lie! Francis seems to be okay with her… and I like her as well.”

“I like her too,” Callum admitted. “I don’t doubt Francis’s judgement. I still can’t believe we’ve met again! I’m certain, he won’t let anything bad happen to us. The thing with Rayla is that she’s not telling us everything; she’s hiding something and I know it!”

“I’d be careful if I were you!” It was Francis’s characteristically bright and warming voice. The princes turned around. “Also where are my manners? Good morning!” A wide smile cropped up across Callum’s and Ezran’s faces, as they got up to wave their hellos. Francis’s slightly wet hair and glistening face and forearms made him look sharp and fresh, as he continued. “Moonshadow elves are private and reserved creatures; be patient with her. Those are quite unusual circumstance for her as well,” Francis instantaneously turned his tone into a far more playful and teasing one. “I would also be careful with your compliments. Since they’re so quiet, compliments can have a very profound impact on them. It can go to their head and boost their ego quite obnoxiously greatly. You don’t want Rayla to get all clingy and actually like you Callum, do you?” Callum didn’t know how to respond. It was clear that he didn’t realise that Francis was joking around, until both Francis and Ezran burst out laughing. Francis continued. “Or do, it’s up to you, I won’t judge. I’ll just have to be a little less forgiving with her, just to keep her feet on the ground. Her positioning and decision-making during a fight could certainly do with an improvement.”

“Hurry, hurry!” Rayla suddenly emerged, running through the bushes. Francis noticed her eyes; she certainly saw something. Her arm was also limper than usual, like after a fight.

“Good morning to you too,” Francis said a tad sarcastically, then turned to the boys. “That’s not how Moonshadow elves usually greet.”

“C’mon let’s go, we need to leave now!” Rayla said more impatiently.

“My stuff is packed!” Francis deflected, while Ezran went to quickly get his backpack sorted.

“Wait!” Callum said. “Why do we have to leave now? You have to explain to us…”

“I don’t have to explain anything to you!” Rayla cut him off. “We’re going right away!” She said, as she turned and began walking away. Lost, Callum looked at Francis.

Francis didn’t appreciate the pushy and rather rude tone Rayla used, but he suspected that something happened when he was gone. “Yeah, what she said,” he got up and followed her. Callum took Ezran’s hand and chased after both of them.

* * *

“So do you remember how I said that that’s not how Moonshadow elves greet?” Francis reminded, trying to break the icy cold atmosphere as they went higher and higher up the hill.

“Yeah,” Callum finally responded. Gosh, he was a little slow sometimes, as Francis waved for him to go on. “How do they greet, then?”

“Moons to meet you!” Francis did a little bow spreading his hands to resemble a lunar shape.

“No, we don’t!” Rayla sounded defensive. Ezran and Callum chuckled.

“Ugh, come on, Rayla, play along!” Francis said. “Imagine the scenes if they did that in Silvergrove!”

“I’m in no playful mood at the moment.” Rayla responded, even though deep down she could appreciate what Francis was trying to do.

“You always got to look on the brighter side, there’s a joke in there somewhere. I’m afraid you’ll have to get used to it and up your deception skills. I wouldn’t want you to reveal all of our cards during a fight!” Francis nudged her in the shoulder. She rolled her eyes, clearly trying to focus on her task. Francis knew that something was bothering her greatly, something that occurred when he was gone, he just needed to find out what. At least he needed to get her talking and lighten the tension. Francis decided to add. “Anyways, this little bow I did is from a dance of theirs. You have to put your hands like this, because, and of course Rayla isn’t going to show it, when your partner matches you, the hands form a circle that symbolises a full moon!”

Rayla didn’t say anything. The princes were certainly wowed, but she was also impressed with how deep his knowledge of Moonshadow elf culture ran. However she was in no mood to talk. Francis would have to try a little harder to snap Rayla out of her shell and get her to bring her walls down just a little bit. Before Francis could continue, he spotted a divergence in the path. The road they were walking on was absolutely fine and easy, but if he was alone he would have turned towards the other path. It led right through the mountain pass, which would save them a great deal of time, but was also riskier and more difficult to travel.

Despite the cooler weather and a possibility of an avalanche, it was a rather unremarkable mountain pass, so much so that it was not even named. Nothing ever happened here, even the village that was up there was also unnamed… or maybe it was but no one really emerged from there to tell anyone otherwise. Francis felt a little sad for the lack of appreciation of this area. Maybe one day he could help it out by bringing this to Ezran’s attention, when he would become king. Right now, however, they needed to agree on which path to take. He knew his preference and he had a feeling for what Rayla would choose, much to the chagrined princes.

“Finally, an easier path!” Callum said, relieved.

“Wait!” Rayla said as she looked carefully at the road. “It’s too easy”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Ezran asked.

“No, we can be tracked easier that way,” Rayla thought out loud, then she pointed to the divergence. It was far steeper and had uninviting amount of snow piled up in the way. “We’re going this way!”

“‘Tracked’, you say?” Francis’s thought process escaped his brain momentarily. The cogs were ticking in his brain, as things started to fall in their place. This was a serious problem.

“But it’s so much more difficult!” Callum argued.

“It’s perfect,” Rayla said, as she didn’t wait for a group decision to be made and began to travel up the hill. “The more difficult the better.”

“That doesn’t make any sense!” Callum exclaimed, more annoyed than usual by Rayla’s behaviour. Ezran tried his best to conceal his whining, which only amounted to disgruntled noises.

“Come on,” Francis said to the princes. “It’s a quicker path and it’s best if we can save as much time as possible.”

Somewhat persuaded by Francis’s reassurance, the princes, with a heavy defeated sigh, followed them. After they gained some altitude, the air became cooler and the snowdrifts became taller. Francis made an audible and deep inhale through his nose. His arms stretched out a little, like he wanted to hug something.

“Ah, my Del Bar roots are speaking to me now,” Francis explained. “I love snow and a cold breeze running through my cape and biting my face. Cold weather is like a part of my nature, like a part of me.”

“So you’re like snow,” Rayla joked, seizing her long awaited opportunity to make fun of Francis. Despite her mood, she was never going to miss this chance. “Cold on the outside but then melts in any kind of warmth. Sound like you alright!”

Francis gave a hearty laugh. “If you say so,” he noticed that Rayla was a little more relaxed. She might have been a tough Moonshadow elf, but she certainly was not dull. He thought it would be quite an act to keep his companions’ spirits up, but at the moment it was working out quite alright. Nothing was out of order.

He heard Ezran huffing loudly, making him look behind him. Callum took the initiative earlier and took the backpack with the egg off of him, but even Callum looked strained under its weight. Francis imagined how challenging it was for Ezran to keep up with their pace. He then noticed that Ezran was a little light on his clothing.

“Hey, Ezran, I think you ought to put an extra layer on. It’ll get colder, the higher we go.” Francis pointed out.

“I’m okay, I’m not cold.” Ezran said.

“Ezran, the last thing we want is for anyone to get ill. Besides, you really don’t want to find out what is the Eastern Xadian cure for the common sniffles.” Francis warned.

“It’s not that bad,” Rayla intervened. “It’s simply…”

“Trust me, for a human and for the first time,” Francis cut her off. “You. Don’t. Want. To. Find. Out. So let’s leave it at that.”

“I promise I’m fine, I’ll be fine.” Ezran said, very sure of himself and refusing to listen.

“Too many things are outside of our control. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Francis said a bit too firmly. Ezran seemed a little down after that, still not following Francis’s advice. Well, if he refused to listen, then there would be only one way for him to learn the lesson. He did warn him.

“He’ll be fine.” Callum defended his brother. It came across sharply, as Francis clearly felt that he was still annoyed about Rayla’s rush and secrecy. Francis sighed, he needed to try something different with Ezran… something more fun! His eyes immediately lit up, signalling to the outer world that he came up with a brilliant idea.

“Why do you look so excited?” Rayla asked, slightly concerned with whatever crazy ideas humans could come up.

Francis stopped, and the rest of the gang did likewise. He knelt down to Ezran’s level, who flinched thinking he was going to get told off again. Instead he found Francis’s palm open and stretched out to him. “Do you trust me?” Francis’s smile was warm, encouraging and inviting, as Ezran couldn’t help himself but copy his smile. He nodded, but then suddenly Francis said. “Want to see how flying feels?”

He didn’t wait for Ezran’s reply as he grabbed him and held him upright. A rush of adrenaline surged through Ezran as he felt as light as a feather in Francis’s hands. Francis sprinted ahead of the group, as wind blew wildly into Ezran’s cheeks.

“Spread your hands, your wings!” Ezran heard Francis say. Ezran followed his advice, as he almost felt like he began to take off. He felt so free and light, like he hadn’t felt the last two days… or in a long while. It felt like he was on a holiday, like his brother and dad finally got away from all of their hectic schedules and demands and could finally spend days playing together. The snow could only remind him of the winter festivities at the Banther Lodge. Ezran screamed and laughed with joy. Neither of them could hear the chuckle from Rayla and Callum behind them.

“You humans are so weird,” Rayla mocked, talking more to Callum than to Francis and Ezran. “We’re on a mission and you find time to do this? I will give you one thing however, you can be amusing.” Her spirits were clearly lifted. Francis placed Ezran on his shoulders, as they both enjoyed their own little world. Then Francis finally called out.

“Hey, Rayla, I bet that with my heavy backpack and Ezran on my shoulders I can still keep ahead of you!”

“What?!” Her competitive nature sparked, just as Francis wanted it to. “You’re on!” She ran to catch up to them, leaving Callum trailing behind.

“Guys? Wait for me!”

* * *

The dispute between Rayla and Francis had to be put on hold, as Callum couldn’t keep up with them. His back was a little sore from carrying Ezran’s backpack with a heavy dragon egg, but even without it he would struggle to maintain their pace. They were more used to travelling in these conditions after all. Rayla didn’t give Francis a chance that he would be able to keep going with such a heavy backpack and Ezran on his shoulders, but he was remarkably enduring. He even stayed ahead of her occasionally.

Her mind however refused to stray away from the terrifying thought that was seeded by that tracker. All of this could be gone, undone even if she caved in and told them the truth. So she remained silent, an observer of Francis’s and Ezran’s interactions. She thought it was weird that Callum, who was normally talkative, was quiet. Whenever she looked at him he would look at her blankly. It left a sour taste, like he was silently judging her, annoyed that she didn’t explain everything to him. She refused however to give in, it was too risky if she explained everything, no matter how guilty staying silent made her feel. She was so vigilant that she refused to think too much about either the tracker or King Harrow, fearing that if she even thought about what happened, Callum would somehow be able to read her mind. She was never so afraid of people being able to predict her or read her thoughts, but Francis showed her that it was possible.

Rayla tried her best to focus on the path ahead of her, but the wholesome and warm interactions between Ezran and Francis were incredibly hard to ignore. In fact she was drawn to it, yearning to take a part in it, at least a little bit. Moonshadow elves were never expressive and fun-going during these missions, so she was a little hesitant to do anything, preferring to keep her mind focused on the road.

“Wow, your hair is so dense,” Ezran said cheerily, sinking his hands underneath Francis’s messy locks. “It keeps my hands warm!” Rayla couldn’t hold back a smile and she certainly couldn’t hold back a quip.

“Yeah, it’s probably so dense that you would probably never need to wear a helmet. It’ll keep your thick skull safe. Oh wait, don’t tell me, I wouldn’t be surprised if you had a story where you used your hair to defend yourself just like that stool of yours!”

“Your prediction skills aren’t as acutely sharpened as mine, Rayla.” Francis responded calmly. “Are you sure you want to be known as somebody who lost and got predicted by a thick skulled person?” Rayla fell silent. Her quipping was usually okay, but that was a little oversight, allowing Francis to overturn it against her. Francis laughed, showing that he was saying it in jest and no offence was taken. “Anyways, have you seen your own hair Ezran? Give it a month, it’ll be as bad as mine!”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Ezran conceded. “But you are an adult and I’m just a kid. It’s okay for me!”

“Wait,” Rayla said her eyes practically staring at Francis’s hair. “Is that white hair?” There were rare single white strands in Francis’s hair. They were very few and far in between and Rayla only noticed it because they glistened occasionally under the rare sunlight.

“I’m touched, maybe even honoured that you called it white hair like I was an elf.” Francis chuckled, for once he seemed surprised by something Rayla said or did. “I mean it is white because it lost colour in those strands, but humans call it grey hair.”

“Grey? Lost colour? You make it sound like it’s a bad thing.” Rayla said confused.

“It’s not a bad thing,” Francis explained. “It’s a natural process. It’s natural for Moonshadow elves to be born with brilliant white hair, such as yourself. It isn’t for us however. We lose the hair colour over time, so having grey hair is a sign of old age. Some people lose their colour quicker than others due to different circumstances. Stress is one of them, as is the case with me.” Rayla looked shocked. Every human would get white hair when they got older? It just seemed so weird to have your hair change colour. Francis quickly added. “At least I’m slightly relieved I haven’t gotten too many more of them, since the last time I saw myself in the mirror. It did take you awhile to notice it.”

Francis left a stunned Rayla to grapple with this new found information, as he slowed down to be with Callum. The kid struggled quite a bit especially with the deep snow that were up to their ankles now. Francis offered a hand a couple of times… and so did Rayla. More precisely, she offered to take the backpack with the dragon egg and carry it for a bit, but Callum refused to give it up, clearly showcasing his distrust for her. Rayla paused and Francis wasn’t sure if she was hurt by Callum’s rejection or if she was debating something in her head. Maybe even both, as she told him to shake it off and carry on, but Callum couldn’t. His speed seemed to fleet away, as his inexperienced and lean built body let him know of its lack of endurance and experience. Francis had to go slightly behind him in order to help and push him along.

Finally after reaching the peak, Rayla announced. “We can stop here. Having food sounds good right about now!” A sigh of relief escaped Callum’s mouth, as he fell onto his knees. Ezran jumped into the snow, but it was a little too deep for him, as it went up to his knees.

“This place has a little too much snow for a place to stop.” Francis pointed out.

“Just clean it up a little.” Rayla uncooperatively shrugged it off.

“I mean my hairdo is good enough to be used as a brush and a mop.” Francis said jokingly.

“Yeah, try it.” Rayla replied. Francis gave a little smirk, got on his fours and shook his head in the snow, sweeping it aside with his hair. “You know I was joking, right?” Rayla asked bemused.

“Oh, I’m aware, I just did it anyway. I do feel extra fresh right now!” Francis gave Rayla a thumbs up, but Rayla, amused by his very weird act, could only roll her eyes and shake her head. Francis continued. “This still won’t do, how about I look for a place to rest, while you start eating?”

“Fine, do it your way,” Rayla gave up. “Callum what are we having today from your exclusive supply of bread?”

Callum put down the backpack and reached out to Ezran only to realise, he hadn’t given him the food supply. Where was it? Did he put it in Ezran’s backpack? He rummaged it, but could only find the egg and The Primal Stone. He swallowed. “Um, I don’t have it…” Everyone shot a dubious look at him, like they weren’t sure if they heard him correctly.

“So you’re saying you lost it,” Rayla pointed out the obvious.

“Yes, I must’ve forgotten it back at the previous camp.” Callum conceded, lowering his head in shame.

“Great, I won’t have to ruin my brilliant soup with that stale excuse of a bread!” Francis said optimistically.

“Great?!” Rayla exclaimed bewildered by Francis’s reaction. “We have no food!”

“Oh, right, yeah, I haven’t realised that we have no food, very perceptive Rayla.” Francis said sarcastically. He was only trying to lighten the mood and keep the spirits high, but maybe he over did it in that moment. “I still need to look for a more suitable place, so I’m going to find it. I’m pretty sure we don’t have no food at all.” Francis hinted and began his search.

Once he was out of the trio’s earshot, Rayla began ripping into Callum. “You had one job!”

“You rushed me!” Callum blamed Rayla, pointing his finger at her. “You forced us to act too quickly, you made me leave my stuff!”

“Oh, yeah, right,” Rayla said sarcastically. “Because I remember saying three things: ‘Hurry, hurry’, ‘Let’s go, go, go’ and ‘Be sure to abandon all of the supplies you need to survive’,” Callum didn’t reply, giving Rayla a frosty look. No matter how frustrated he was, Rayla was technically right… but not faultless.

“What do we do? We have no food!” Ezran whined, breaking up the argument and the silence.

“Well, I’ll be willing to share some of my Moonberry juice. It is super nutritious and I still have plenty…” Rayla took out her flask only to realise it was empty. “Still had plenty of it. Which one of you went through my stuff?”

“I didn’t touch any of your stuff!” Callum raised his hands up defensively.

“I didn’t drink anything,” Ezran stated. Rayla saw the innocence in their eyes and believed them.

“Francis is too smart to mess with my stuff, so I doubt it was him. If it’s not you and if it’s not Francis, then,” she was interrupted by a hiccup. She looked to her left to find Bait, who was glowing dark red. “It was that little frog monster, wasn’t it?”

“No, it definitely wasn’t,” Ezran ran over to defend his pet. It was very impressive courage for an eight year old to stand up to a Moonshadow assassin. “It couldn’t be him!”

“Then why is he so red?” Rayla asked furiously.

“He changes colour based on his mood, remember?” Ezran deflected.

“Then what does that colour mean?” Rayla asked him impatiently.

Ezran regarded Bait for a second, noticing his strange dark red glow. “Actually, I don’t know,” he knelt down to inspect Bait. “I’ve never seen him glow this colour before… this berry red colour.” Bait burped and Ezran was able to smell his breath. He defeatedly sunk his head. “Yep, it was him.”

“Ugh,” Rayla rolled her shoulders in frustration. “This is such a mess!”

“Yeah?” Callum replied cynically, raising his voice, which was bitterly cold. “You’re the one who made us take this crazy route and you’re the one who made us go too quickly. My back’s still aching…”

“You do know I can help you carry the egg, right?” Rayla asked, ignoring Callum’s whining.

“And again, no! We’re keeping it safe with us!”

“You do realise I can just take it, right?” Rayla asked again, matching his volume.

_…crack…_

She couldn’t hold back any longer, as this distrust drove her insane.

“Yeah, good one Rayla, way to increase trust!” Callum replied sarcastically.

“But I didn’t, that’s the point!”

“Wow, you deserve a medal! You’re a hero!” Callum shouted cynically.

_…crack…crack…_

“Yeah, you’re right. I could return the egg on my own and I would be a hero,” Rayla didn’t back down, including when it came to Callum’s loudness. “They would build a statue of me back in Xadia, Rayla the Returner of The Egg!”

“So what’s stopping you?” Callum asked distrustfully.

_…crack…crack…crack…_

He wasn’t expecting her to answer, or maybe he expected her to come up with some excuse.

“Because it must come from you!” She screamed, exasperated with the fact that Callum couldn’t seem to get such a simple point.

_…crack…crack. Crack._

“It’s the gesture that matters – two human princes returning the dragon egg!” She continued. “That could stop the war!”

“I leave for two seconds!!!” It was the harsh barking voice of Francis that immediately made the trio’s heads turn. “You two must stop bickering and blaming each other for your own shortcomings and mistakes, otherwise it will cause problems for all of us!”

“Guys,” Ezran said as loudly as he dared, courageously attracting attention to himself. He pointed to the mountain’s ice peak just above them. It was covered in multiple fluctuating cracks. A dangerous amount of snow burdened the ice peak. “All your shouting will cause an avalanche, if we don’t stop now.”

Francis slapped himself across the face, so hard that the trio were concerned if he had just hurt himself. “Ugh, I’m so stupid… wisdom comes from the mouths of babes.” He said, almost in a whisper… almost like he was talking to himself. “And I’m an idiot for not noticing it earlier! We’re in an extremely precarious situation and you Ezran are undoubtedly an extraordinary brave boy for intervening in a heated conversation like that. You are smarter than you seem for your age.” Francis drew his hand away from his face and faced the rest of his companions. “Okay, from now on, no talking! Understood?” They all nodded.

Francis pointed to them which way to go and quickly got his backpack. He was very annoyed with how hastily the atmosphere changed, since he left: the distrust, the argument, the danger they have put themselves in. It all surfaced and became too obvious to ignore and avoid. He would have to solve that problem later, as a far more threatening problem loomed over them. They needed to stay very quiet, silent even, but it was impossible due to the crunching sounds of the snow underneath their feet. Even though it was unavoidable, it still mildly infuriated Francis. However that was not going to be a problem for much longer, as Bait, to everyone’s dismay, let out a deafening belch.

The trio ahead of them froze to the spot, as Francis darted towards Bait. Through the loud cracking of the ice above them, Francis shouted. “I’ve got Bait! Run!”

The kids were snapped out of their stupor and didn’t need to be told twice. The snow came crushing down and an avalanche was chasing after them. It was ready to swallow them whole and bury them, sink them, drown them, underneath the thick layers of snow and ice. Francis wasn’t the best sprinter but in the face of life threatening danger nothing was impossible, as he gradually caught up with the kids who had a massive head start.

 _When would the world give me a break? Why is it never easy?_ Francis thought to himself. His heart ached when he saw Ezran trip, falling face first into a snowdrift. Thankfully, Rayla was the quickest to react as she stopped and held out her hand to help him up. It was naturally her leading hand, which coincidentally was her bound hand. As Ezran pulled himself up using her hand, she let out a painful cry.  
“What happened to your wrist?” Ezran asked, concerned.  
“It’s nothing, it doesn’t matter now!” Rayla replied. Ezran wanted to argue but couldn’t as Rayla grabbed his hand and pulled him with her. The situation didn’t give time for discussions anyway.  
“Callum!” Rayla exclaimed in disbelief. “Why aren’t you...” but she got her answer before she could even finish her question. They were standing right before a cliff edge. No way back, no way around and no way out... apart from down if you had a death wish.  
“Come on, Francis, think! There’s got to be a way out!” He told himself out loud, as his head and eyes twisted around sharply looking for anything that could help.  
“I have an idea,” Callum said. “Ezran hold the backpack.” He produced his Primal Stone out of it. “Everyone get behind me!” Callum quickly drew the wind spell rune, took the deepest breath he could and shouted. “ _Aspiro_!” The wind rapidly expelled from his lungs, as it split the avalanche in half, creating a safe zone around the team.

Having nothing else to do, the rest of the team looked around at the mesmerising view of the thick snow being whipped past them... but not Francis. They were in the eye of a snow storm, but it would soon pass…  
“Good thinking, Callum!” Francis said absentmindedly, finally letting go of Bait. His mind was trying to figure a way out, as he thought to himself. _There has got to be something. Only snow around us. Did Callum have a plan? He doesn’t think through everything, so definitely not. That breath was going to run out at some point. No magic tricks. No sword trickery,_ Francis refused to give up. This certainly wasn’t the way he wanted to help name this previously uneventful and unremarkable pass. Was there really nothing else he could do, but to simply accept that the avalanche was going to swallow them? He did say that the snow was part of his nature. Maybe they would get lucky and come out of this fine and alive? He hated leaving their lives up to chance. He had to try something, anything. Maybe try and get everyone together, hold onto each other? Maybe it would be easier to find them afterwards? Would it even make a difference?

Callum tensed, his breath was running out. Francis made up his mind. Callum was finally all out. Francis stepped in front of them facing them and his back towards the avalanche. He spread his hands wide, trying to shelter them… like it would make a difference. Francis took the first step towards Callum, trying to grab him and then the rest. He didn’t make the next step, as he was swept up by the avalanche. They all sunk into darkness.

* * *

It was awfully dark and Callum thought that that was the end of their story. Miraculously, he was still alive. It took more effort than Callum initially anticipated to climb out of the snow. The last thing he remembered was Francis being swept up by the avalanche and then feeling himself sink in it as well. He looked around him. No one in sight.

“Ezran? Francis? Rayla?” He shouted only for the valley to echo back to him. He didn’t know what to do. Could he use ‘ _aspiro’_ to blow the snow off? What if they didn’t make it? How long would he have to search for… alone? Was he on his own from now on? The thought made him shiver to his core, frozen still in a figment of time, perpetually scared and alone.

As his mind grappled to terms with this possibility, he fell on his knees and began to dig ferociously, his body refusing to believe it. His heart leapt in his chest when Callum saw his little brother’s hand shoot out of a massive pile of snow. His head followed suit and emerged from the depths.

“Is everyone okay? Where is Rayla?” Ezran asked before Callum could even say anything or breathe a sigh of relief. As on command, Rayla jumped out of the snow, seemingly unscathed.

“Where is that hiccupping, juice-thief frog? Once I get my hands on him…” she noticed Bait’s tail sticking out beside her. She pulled him out and showed him her fist. That would teach him to stay out of her stuff. Bait croaked, showing his grumpy gratitude for taking him out of the snow.

“I need some help pulling me out.” Ezran said.

Rayla quickly walked over to the princes. Callum and Rayla pulled Ezran by his hands. He was very firmly stuck. It took a second coordinated attempt for Ezran to be relieved from his snowy captivity as he was sent flying by the sheer force of the pull. As Ezran landed on his backpack, he could feel the egg slip away from underneath the flap and roll away onto the frozen lake, that they were on.

“Where is Francis?” Rayla asked alarmingly.

“I don’t know,” Callum replied. “I haven’t seen him when I got out.”

Ezran got to his feet and confidently said. “You two look for him. He’s big, so he’s probably just stuck underneath the snow like I was. I’ll go get the egg.” Rayla and Callum both nodded and began their search, as they repeatedly called for his name.

Meanwhile, Ezran headed towards the egg, which finally stopped rolling right in the middle of the lake. Ezran hoped that Francis was fine; he had grown to like him quite a bit. Francis’s presence for the past day did make their travels far more colourful than in the days leading up to his arrival. It almost made him forget that they were on a long and dangerous journey. Ezran leant forward to pick up the egg.

_Crack…_

Ezran’s heart nearly stopped beating. He looked underneath him and it confirmed what he had expected. Tiny cracks began to show in the ice under his feet. He was scared to even make a sound, let alone move. He had to however attract the attention of Callum and Rayla.

“Guys!” They looked at Ezran and slowly their eyes widened. Even though Callum was still not on ice, he already started walking carefully and timidly.

“Ez, don’t move. I’m coming to get you.”

Ezran waited patiently for what felt like an eternity as Callum made his way to him. Rayla also followed him some distance away.

“Okay,” Callum said quietly. “Easy does it. Just pass it to me.”

Ezran gently gave the egg to Callum. As Callum turned he stiffened due to the unmistakeable sound of the ice cracking beneath his feet. An unvoiced question of ‘what now?’ hung in the air… or more accurately on Rayla’s lips. If they were to make it back safely, Callum had to hand over the egg to Rayla.

Callum looked at her and she regarded him also, the weight of his decision felt by her. “I’m sorry if I was a jerk to you, Rayla. We’re lucky to have you. I do trust you.” He held out the egg in front of him. Rayla hesitantly reached out to it, but her hand fell, just as her face did. She backed away slightly.

“No, I don’t deserve your trust, not yet,” Rayla insisted. She slowly began to realise how everything was connected, as Francis’s words echoed back to her. She thought that they were in this position solely because of her. “The whole rush this morning was because I met a human soldier in the woods, who attacked me. It was hard to fight him off, because of this,” she raised her purple bound hand and pointed to it.

“You don’t have to do this Rayla…” Callum said, but Rayla carried on. She had to tell them the most obvious and important parts.

“This assassin’s binding is,” there was a moment of hesitation as she took a deep breath. “For Prince Ezran. I swore an oath to end his life and the binding will get tighter and tighter until I lose my hand, but I’m ready to pay that price.” She looked at their faces, praying that they wouldn’t turn away… that she hadn’t thrown this away. Prince Ezran looked understandably scared, but there was a sense of acceptance and respect glimpsing through his face.

“Thank you for telling us this,” Callum sounded genuine. “But we need to focus on the situation.” He held out the egg to her again. Rayla came closer and reached out, but she recoiled back again. Since she started, it might as well come out all at once.

“There is one more thing,” but she struggled to say it directly, as she began to meander around with her words, slowly approaching the real message. “The night I met you, something… terrible happened…” the ice cracked louder now.

“Rayla, there is no time!”

“Please, Callum, this is important. It’s about the King…” Rayla sounded less certain and less confident, the more words she uttered.

“Just take it!” Callum said.

“Get on your front! Spread the weight!” It was the alarmed voice of Francis, as he climbed out of the snow. Rayla turned her head in his direction, but she shouldn’t have. Callum clumsily shoved the egg into her hands and Rayla wasn’t expecting it. She felt an excruciating pain in her bound arm caused from an unprepared burden she took. She howled in pain as her hand recoiled towards her body, dropping the egg. The dragon egg, with a heavy thud, cracked through the ice into the dark depths of the lake. Callum felt his stomach sink. Francis sprinted towards them, sliding across the ice. He was so far away.

“You dropped it!” Was all that Callum could point out.

_You’re a such brave boy, Ezran._

“I just told you my hand was messed up!” Rayla argued.

_Your selflessness is a great strength!_

“Well, use the other hand!” Callum continued to argue.

… _undoubtedly an extraordinary brave boy for intervening in a heated conversation._

“Stop arguing! We have to do something!” Ezran’s thoughts were now escaping his mouth, then he shut his eyes and muttered under his breath. “You’re a brave, brave boy.” Ezran dove head first into the freezing lake.

“Damn it!” Francis screamed from the top of his lungs, as he grinded to a halt just before the opening.

“No, Ez, no!” Callum shouted, as if Ezran could still hear him. “I’m going in after him!” But just before Callum could follow Ezran, he felt Rayla’s hand grab him and pull him backwards.

“No don’t!”

“What? Why?”

“He can do this,” Rayla said confidently. “And we need to be up here to pull him out!”

Callum grappled out of Rayla’s grip, not pleased with the idea of leaving his brother down there alone. “He’s just a kid!” Callum let out.

“You’re all just kids!” Francis shouted sharply, making their heads turn to him. It was a cold tone, colder than the breeze that was picking up. His back dauntingly curved over the break in the ice, but he was looking at them. His eyes alone could tear through them, as they were sharper than knives. Rayla and Callum weren’t sure if it was worse when Francis was silent or when he shouted at them. His warmth towards the group evaporated in that instant and his stony cold expression was a harsh contrast from his normally gregarious and affable demeanour. “Every single one of you! What did I say back then about arguing and bickering?! How long would you two have been at each other’s throats before one of you would dive after the egg? Why was Ezran, the youngest of us all, the smartest, quickest and bravest to react in this situation? You should be ashamed of yourself!”

Neither Callum nor Rayla replied, they couldn’t. Francis was angry, but in reality his outburst was only a sliver of how furious he was at himself. He let this happen… he walked away for a minute, thinking it would be alright. He rushed it and misjudged the situation… horribly. Everything was out of his control now and in his mind he berated himself over it. They would be incredibly lucky to not lose anyone after this… for the second time. Francis was responsible; he could always rely on himself, but now he was also directly responsible for his companions. He had only held himself responsible for everything, but now others would have to follow suit, if they were to make it to Eastern Xadia alive. Francis took his cloak off, it would get in a way once he went after Ezran.

“What are you doing?” Callum voiced his question impatiently.

“I’m counting to sixty. You and Rayla traverse the frozen lake, in case Ezran gets lost and doesn’t resurface at the hole,” sensing Callum’s and Rayla’s question, Francis elaborated. “At sixty, I will go into the lake searching for Ezran. You will not follow me! I will either resurface with Ezran and the egg or I won’t resurface at all. The last one is not an option!”

“But how are you going to find him?” Rayla rightfully asked. “It’s going to be dark. Looking for both of them is going to be like looking for a needle in a haystack!” Francis just looked at her, he was counting in his mind already.

_…5…6…7…_

Yet his eyes relayed to her the coolness and confidence that channelled and focused his exuberance on his quest, which was otherwise a suicidal act overfilled with a sea of uncontrollable factors.

_…12…13…14…_

It would require a once in a lifetime bit of fortune. “I like those odds,” he said as he looked down at the hole in the ice.

_…19…20…21…_

He remained calm, as his mind focused only on the task ahead of him. At the back of his head, he was hoping, praying even, that Ezran would resurface any moment now…

_…33…34…35…_

His calmness and stillness were likewise present in the lake beneath him. The hopes kept sinking.

* * *

It was cold, dark and disorienting underneath thick layers of ice and snow. A feeling Ezran thought he had initially escaped, but he blindly dove back into it. This time however it was wetter and colder. It was so dark, he could barely see his fingers in front of him. He panicked but he couldn’t fail anyone: not Francis who believed in him; not Callum who loved him; not Rayla who trusted him; not the entire world that in that very moment relied solely on him. He could feel the pressure, the weight above him crushing him, as the darkness that surrounded him thickened.

Like a beacon of light he saw the egg dim and float further and further away. Ezran thrashed his hands and legs harder, he couldn’t face disappointing his friends. He was their only hope. But the egg slipped further and further away, sinking quicker than it seemed. His hope was sinking too. The possibility of him dying entered his head. He became scared even more of the darkness, but he couldn’t let them down. He was becoming more and more desperate… to survive and succeed. He felt that he couldn’t do this alone. He wanted someone, anyone to come and step in, sweep in and save him and the egg.

_Help me!!! Please! I don’t want to die!_

Ezran suddenly saw everything flash white around him. A calm, motherly, yet an ethereal voice spoke to him. “I will always protect you!” Even though Ezran couldn’t see anyone, he felt the voice smiling lovingly. Ezran was too young when his mother died, so he didn’t even remember her voice. However, deep down, something told him it was her. He quickly glided towards the voice. He wasn’t sure if he was imagining everything that was happening, but he swore he could hear something desperately screaming for help… _Please!_

“I will guide you and I will be with you always, no matter how far apart we are!” The source of the flash and the voice grew closer. Ezran closed his eyes and came in for a hug, as he expected to feel for the first time his mother’s embrace… but nothing hugged him back. When he opened his eyes, it was dark and he was at the bottom of the lake holding the egg. Ezran triumphantly clutched it closer to him and quickly turned to resurface. He could feel that his lungs were about to burst. His air was running out, as his relief at finding the egg was short lived. Only darkness was around him. Where did he come from? Where was the exit?

* * *

“You were wrong,” Callum uttered gravely. “He’s not coming back…”

“I’m so sorry, Callum,” Rayla apologised. Tears began to flow down Callum’s face. He looked at Francis who was staring into the abyss of the lake.

“This is your fault!” Callum told Francis. “I heard him say ‘brave boy’… you called him that. They were your words! You made him do this and now he’s gone!”

Francis stayed silent, focusing on the upcoming dive.

_…41…42…43…_

He looked unfazed, but deep down he certainly felt hurt, because Callum was right. It knocked on his conscious. Ezran did the right thing, but if his decision were fuelled by Francis’s words and Ezran wouldn’t survive, Francis was not sure if he would ever forgive himself for it.

Rayla disagreed with Callum, but she didn’t say anything. She noticed Francis occasionally glancing at her, or more accurately at her hand. She followed his eyes. He was looking at the binding.

“No, Ezran is still alive! My binding is still tight!” Rayla proclaimed relieved. Callum’s eyes also lit up slightly. Not all hope was lost.

“What are you two still doing here?” Francis spoke sternly. “Didn’t I tell you to look around the lake in case he doesn’t resurface here?”

Callum anxiously remained seated by the hole, while Rayla followed Francis’s words and got up to search around the lake. She could feel, believed even, that Ezran succeeded and that the brave boy was going to be fine. He was strong, he could do it.

_…50…51…52…_

_Knock. Knock._ Rayla heard it to her side as she saw Ezran with the egg up against the ice. He was trying to break free, but the ice was too thick.

“He’s here!” Rayla shouted. “Hold on just a little longer Ezran, I’ve got you!” She used her sword to try and break the ice open. Despite how poor her hand was, she put everything she had into freeing Ezran, ignoring the ache it sent through her hand. Francis grabbed the cloak and sprinted as fast as he could towards Rayla, with Callum following closely behind. Without hesitation, Francis slid his sword out and shouting, he thrust it as hard as possible into the ice, breaking it.

Ezran surfaced and all three of them pulled him out, with Rayla even managing to forget her fear of water. They got Ezran just in the nick of time, as the egg slid out of his grip. Ezran’s eyes shut, exhausted from the life threatening act. Francis quickly wrapped his cloak around Ezran, trying to dry him off and give some warmth. Callum held onto his brother closely and tightly.

“Ez… Ez, you saved it!” Callum said slightly in disbelief, but in that moment he didn’t care about the egg. He was simply glad that his brave little brother was alive. “You did it!”

Shivering, Ezran opened his eyes and looked at Callum. “I think I got a case of the frozie-toesies,” he managed. Francis managed to produce a chuckle. He pulled both princes into a bear hug, with Rayla joining in too.

“Gods, Ezran, at least now I get it why people are annoyed when I joke after I nearly die!” Francis said.

“Wait, you nearly died before?” Ezran asked, his teeth jittering.

“Once or twice, or maybe plenty of times, I don’t remember,” Francis replied, dodging the follow-up question. “Hush, now Ezran, save your strength. We need to find a cave to stay in for the night and keep you warm.”

“Oh no,” Ezran broke their group hug. The egg wasn’t doing so well.

* * *

Francis carried Ezran, who was neatly wrapped up in his dry black cloak, while Ezran held the egg close to his chest. The team stayed silent. It seemed after every single scrap, just as they thought they luckily got out of it fine; they had another problem on their shoulders. Only after each time there were more and more bruises piling up after their encounters. It never seemed to stop and this was only their third full day of traveling. Would it get worse or would they finally get a break? How much worse could it get?

The team found the cave to hide in pretty quickly. Francis swiftly collected some firewood and started the fire, while Rayla went out to get some more food. Luckily Francis still had some fruit left, which he gladly gave up to the princes and Rayla if she accepted when she returned. Ignoring the churning in his empty stomach, Francis buried himself and his mind in his ‘Medicine and First Aid’ book. Callum also retired to himself, as he began to draw.

It was a miracle that Ezran succeeded, his little brother despite the odds was alive, although he unsurprisingly got a little ill. Callum firmly believed that someone was looking after them and he was drawing that certain someone right now. His attention was disrupted by him occasionally glancing at Ezran.

“Ez, you should really get some sleep,” Callum voiced his concern.

“I’m… I’m…” Ezran sneezed. “I’m _fide_ ”

“You’re not ‘fide’,” Callum mocked lightly. “You need rest!”

Sniffling, Ezran approached Callum. “What are you drawing?” He asked curiously, peaking over his shoulder. Ezran immediately grew sombre, as he recognised the person that Callum was drawing.

“When you went under, I was so scared,” Callum spoke genuinely. “I thought I was going to lose you, just like I lost her. But somehow you made it. Was she watching over us?” Ezran was unsure on how to respond. He felt like she was, but also it seemed that something else was present in his vision in the lake. He wasn’t sure if his visions were pure delusions and thought that Callum might not believe him again, that he was imagining things, due to his illness. Callum continued. “If she knew what we were up to, she would be so proud of us… and she would yell at you to go sit closer to the fire and bundle up!”

“I know,” Ezran conceded and followed his brother’s requests, sticking his hands out toward the fire.

Rayla returned with some moonberries. “This should last us for tomorrow.” She announced. She stopped just as she was walking past Callum, her attention was grabbed by the person he was drawing. It looked so realistic, that she could deduce who it was based on her similarities with the princes. “Wow,” she uttered. “She’s beautiful. Is she your mother?”

“Yeah,” Callum responded, but he didn’t look like he wanted to engage with Rayla on this topic. There was an awkward pause, as Rayla was unsure of how to smoothly move on. Thankfully, Francis came to the rescue, who got up when he heard Rayla’s voice, putting the book away.

“Rayla, thank goodness you’re back. Thanks for the food. I’ve got some fruit left; you should eat, since you haven’t eaten all day.”

“Oh, I’m okay really, you should…” Rayla tried to deflect, but she forgot how staunch Francis could get.

“I’ve already had some.” Francis lied. He hoped the princes wouldn’t say anything, it was more important for them three to stay fed. Besides he could get a few berries before he went to sleep. “I insist Rayla, it’s not good for you if you don’t have any food!” Rayla hesitantly conceded. Before consuming some of Francis’s fruits.

Ezran sneezed again, prompting Rayla to get out a pair of light green berries. “Oh, I’ve got these for you Ezran – Bogeyberries. It’s an ancient Xadian cure for the common sniffles.” Ezran reached out and was about to put them in his mouth, but Rayla stopped him. “No, these are supposed to cure your nose, so you stuff them up your nose!”

“Told you Ezran! Enjoy!” Francis called out, now from behind his ‘Cultures and Traditions of Xadia’ book.

“Seems doable,” Ezran said trying to sound like he was absolutely fine with that cure method.

Ezran put the Bogeyberries up his nose and cuddled up by the fire. Rayla ate some more of Francis’s food stash and after her appetite was satisfied, she felt better almost immediately. She heard Francis put the book down and she looked at him. She wanted to thank him and invite him over closer to the group, since he was, for the first time ever, really quiet and noticeably separate from the rest of them.

Then she realised that Francis wasn’t really there with them. His eyes were a little blank as he seemed to be in a different world or zoned out. He was deep in his thoughts. He occasionally moved his eyes around. Rayla could almost imagine that Francis was thinking so hard that words and ideas were floating in front of him around his head. He was so focused that apart from his ‘thinking face’, Rayla could actually hear him thinking.

Her observation was interrupted when she flicked her head to the side to look at the egg. “How is it doing?” She asked. “It looks even dimmer now, than when I left.”

“Not good,” Callum replied, not knowing what else to say.

“You think? We dropped into an icy lake!” Francis said a little too bluntly, his train of thought escaping his mind. The trio looked at him a little jarred, but Rayla noticed that his face and eyes were still blank. He shook his head and his hand went through his hair, scratching behind his neck. “Sorry, I’m a little tense. I didn’t mean to be this blunt.” He was irked, but Rayla could feel that it wasn’t directed at them. She could tell that, because he was fine beforehand, but at the simple mention of the egg, he seemed to grow dim and detract into his own mind palace.

Callum seemed agitated. “I’m sorry for what I said at the lake; It was never your fault. I was just…” Callum stammered.

“You were upset and you said it in the heat of the moment, I get it,” Francis helped him finish his sentence. “Don’t worry too much, it’s fine. I’m used to it anyway.”

“Used to?” Callum asked.

“Yeah, as an outgoing and active person I was blamed for pretty much everything that happened, even if I was never involved.” Francis replied without hesitation. “I seem to have inherited that trait from my grandparents, my grandfather to be more specific.” Francis said calmly. Rayla looked a little down. She could understand that feeling of trying to prove everyone wrong despite the negativity that others burden you with. “Since I came from his family, I was at the centre of attention and an even easier target. I was either the one to be blamed or everything I achieved was purely because of my family’s name and was thus given rather than earned.” Francis could hear his mother echo those words back to him. He tensed.

“I’m sure Dmitrius never did anything wrong,” Callum said, slightly lost at how to respond, then he added. “And he was wrongly discharged from the Katolis Grand Army.”

“He wasn’t discharged,” Francis corrected him sternly. “He left on his own accord, even if it was forced.”

“Who’s Dmitrius?” Rayla asked.

“He was my grandfather,” Francis replied before Callum could. “From childhood his dream was to become a general. Everyone laughed at him, but guess what? He did. He became the general of the Katolis Grand Army, a specialised force he himself organised that was designed for the best soldiers, primarily for the war against elves. He took part in creating the Pentarchy specialised training programmes and tournaments, from which I became more well known. He was a great warrior, general and an influential and well-respected man. The cape I wear and the sword I carry are his, given to me by Lydia, my grandmother.” Francis went quiet as he reminisced the farewell words.

 _“Even though he is gone, I always see parts of him in you.”_ Her grandmother said. _“He would be proud. The sword and cape are yours. Carry yourself well. You are from our family; don’t be afraid of anything_.”

The burden and the DNA of his family were solely on his shoulders. He perceived that only his grandmother and him were the true members that carried their name.

“You must want to be a lot like him.” Rayla concluded.

“No, I want to be better,” Francis sounded resolute rather than bitter. “He was a great man, but the world doesn’t need another Dmitrius. It hopefully needs Francis and I must be my own entity, separate from my grandfather’s. His records are there to be surpassed and I will, because I will give everything and more to make an impact.”

There was an air of admiration and respect from the trio and Francis sensed it, but he didn’t want to talk about it anymore, so he quickly moved on. “Well, enough about sappy soft stuff and far-fetching future goals. Do you mind if I see your drawings, Callum? I want to see how much you improved.” Surprised by the sudden change in tone, Callum shyly showed him the sketchbook. Francis’s fascinated eyes flickered through the pages, clearly in awe of Callum’s drawing skills. His eyes inspected Callum’s depiction of the battle between him and Rayla.

“I mean, this one is okay,”Callum rubbed the nape of his neck.

“It’s really well done. You are incredible at drawing,” Francis said genuinely. “However, may I offer you a slight criticism?”

“Yeah, sure.” No one ever offered criticism for Callum’s drawings. He usually had to come up with them himself, so it was intriguing to hear Francis’s advice. Callum thought he would say about his or Rayla’s positioning or some other specific detail that was crucial but not obvious.

“Your drawings are too perfect.”

“All of them? What do you mean?” Callum looked dumbfounded and even Rayla who was keeping the fire going shot Francis a surprised look.

“I mean they’re perfect copies of moments frozen in a space continuum of time. Your pictures aren’t alive.” Francis explained.

“I don’t understand you,” Callum managed to utter.

“You see, don’t get me wrong, your talent for depicting things so accurately is incredible. But what if I get an artist who gets plenty of time to copy something. How would it differ from you?”

“I mean I could do it in less amount of time, with less hassle for others,” Callum missed the point.

“Are you going to tell that every time you show your art to somebody? No. What I mean is, how would it differ from your style? How would I know that this depiction of the battle is unmistakably yours?”

“I’m not sure,” Callum admitted.

“You see, Callum, I always saw art as a form of expression of oneself. In art you can code a message, something your own. You can perfectly draw a sunrise, but someone else for example may draw that sunrise to symbolise another beginning of a hopeful or a dreary day; a new stage in life or a day closer to death,” the longer Francis spoke, the more enlightened Callum felt. He was left processing every single word that Francis uttered, mulling over their significance long after Francis said them. “I don’t see a point of seeing what I already see or what others see. I want to see what you see. How do you interpret this battle. A triumph? A tragedy? A clash of races? Ideologies? Or just a friendly sparring match?” Francis winked at Rayla.

“Is that a challenge?” Rayla got up and crossed her arms.

“I am more than happy to teach you a few tricks of mine and other elves’ moves and we certainly have to spar in order to keep our form up, but only once your hand gets better.” Francis pointed out earnestly, then cheekily added. “I wouldn’t want you to make any excuses.”

“Oh, I’m involuntarily, levelling the playing field for you.” Rayla quipped back. Francis chuckled, then suddenly he perked up sharply, as if remembering something.

“I need to do something,” he excused himself, then turned to Callum one last time. “I hope that helped.”

“Wow, yeah, thanks,” Callum snapped out of his thought process. “I never really considered it that way before.”

“You’re welcome, I’m glad I could help. I’m looking forward to seeing _you_.” Rayla was a tad confused. Wasn’t Francis in the same place as Callum? But Callum nodded, as he seemed to understand what he meant. He flipped over the page and started drawing something new.

Francis sat down and opened the book, but before he could start reading it, he spoke one last time. “By the way, Callum, it is late, so I would recommend that you and Ezran get to sleep.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Callum sighed defeatedly, as he closed his sketchbook. “I’ll keep him warm.”

“And Rayla,” Francis turned to look at her. “I would urge you to do the same, but knowing you, you probably don’t want to sleep yet.” He turned back to his book.

Rayla didn’t say anything, since he was right. She remembered how Francis dug his fingers into the book the previous night, but this time she sensed a new purpose in his flickering. His tendency to search and flip the pages doubled. She wondered why was he so determined whilst reading it. What didn’t he already know about the cultures and traditions of Xadia?

Rayla opted not to disturb and distract him; she could ask him later. She wanted to reflect upon her day, before going to sleep. So much seemed to happen today she hardly believed it all happened in one day: the soldier, the argument, the avalanche, the lake… she felt exhaustion hit her only when she started to think about it. She still couldn’t quite believe herself that she found the courage to tell the princes about the binding. Francis was right, despite her fears, it worked out and the boys seemed to be more accepting of her lately.

She still wasn’t entirely sure about Francis when he joined. She and the boys too, still didn’t know everything about him, but in Francis’s own words it wasn’t needed. She saw how determined he was to keep everything together and save their lives. She wasn’t sure if she saw it correctly, since it happened too quickly, but she was almost certain he tried to shield Callum and the rest of them when the avalanche covered them. She was now certain that Francis had the words of a Moonshadow elf – they were not thrown around lightly and were very reliable; he was committed to them. She was certain that Francis also had another more personal stake in all of this, which is why he turned extremely serious when the egg was mentioned. Added to the hell-bent way he buried himself in the book and she was certain he was on a mission. She still decided to keep her guard up and keep everything close to her chest. It wasn’t a good time to question the busy Francis.

Rayla felt more exhausted from thinking and reflecting so much, her thoughts instead trained on her destination, Xadia… and the most important place in Xadia, Silvergrove, her home. It had everything: the pleasant valley and meadows, the _Adoraburrs_ , the sweet smell of a Moonberry Surprise. She slowly began to hum a melody, a beautiful, happy, little moon jingle the kids used to sing on their way to and from schools. It filled the town and really made up the magical atmosphere that was her childhood. She would sing that tune louder when she pranced on her own back to home, excitedly anticipating Ethari’s cooking or Runnan’s gruelling training sessions.

She slowed down her hum turning a little more melancholic, a little more sombre. She hoped Runnan was fine, that she wasn’t the sole survivor of that raid on the Katolis castle. Rayla thought of the egg, hoping that it would survive. She got her assassin team discovered, turned against their mission, against Runnan and ran away with one of the targets she was supposed to kill. Nothing would have counted or mattered if the egg died after she dropped it in an icy lake. She continued to hum, trying to calm herself down, intently listening to the jingle… but something felt off, something was missing. It was then she realised that she hadn’t heard Francis flip through a page in a while. She stopped humming and looked at him. He was staring at her, dreamy eyed. His tilted head was held up by his fist, lost in some sort of bliss, with his book put to the side. He immediately returned to the realm of existence and cleared his throat.

“Sorry,” he began. “I haven’t heard music in such a long time. That was a Moonshadow kids’ jingle, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” she said, easing up a little bit. She noticed Francis’s brooding eyes drifting off to the side. Something felt off to her about him ever since she had her food, something was not right. “What are you thinking about?”

“What?” Francis looked caught out.

“Right now, what are you thinking about?”

“Does it matter?” Francis frowned.

“Yes, you look like a shadow of your former cheery self. I may only know you for a day, but that contrast is hard to ignore.” Rayla pointed out.

“I think it’s a little too early for me to say it.” Francis was being hypocritical, wasn’t he? Rayla glowered at him. He regarded her for a moment. “Rayla,” he wasn’t sure if he was ready, it was a little too sudden, but his guard dropped. “Am I a good person?” Rayla’s eyes widened, she certainly didn’t expect to hear that. She struggled to give a coherent answer. “You know what? Forget about it!”

“What makes you ask that question?” Rayla tried to keep Francis engaged.

“Things that don’t add up,” he replied quickly. “I seem to try to do good things, have good intentions, be better, but they backfire,” he scratched the bridge of his nose and after a little pause, he continued. “Look, why did I even speak? How can I expect you to answer that question, when you only knew me for a day?” He went to grab his book, but Rayla wanted to keep his attention, feeling eager to learn more about him. He knew so much about her after all.

“What are you reading about?” She asked.

“‘Cultures and Traditions of Xadia’,” Francis pointed out the obvious. Rayla shook her head

“Yeah, I can read the cover,” Rayla snarked, then pressed on. “Why are you reading it?”

“To find out how to take off that binding in an optimal way.” Francis replied calmly. Rayla groaned.

“I thought we had this discussion. There are no other ways, either I kill Ezran or I lose my hand!” Rayla said.

“Have you forgotten how stubborn I am when I make up my mind, or have you not realised that yet?” Francis replied firmly, he wasn’t backing down. “I’m not sure if you noticed, but your hand still seems to be only purple. How long have you had the binding for?”

“Four days, fifth tomorrow.”

“That’s too slow. Usually assassin’s hands would’ve been black by now,” Francis pondered. Something sparked deep down in Rayla’s mind. Was it hope? Was there a way out? She quickly hid it, too many times hope was the last thing before a disappointment.

“Why would that matter?” She tried to deflect.

“Maybe there’s a catch to it, maybe there’s a hook we can latch onto, maybe there’s something going on?” Francis went on, fuelled by his optimism, perhaps trying to spread some of it on Rayla. The spark was lighting up a little more, it took greater effort not to show it and keep it hidden.

“Stop worrying about me, it’s fine. I accepted it. We should worry about the egg.” Rayla changed the subject.

“That’s another reason why I’m going through this book,” Francis stated. Rayla looked at him, feeling like no matter what, he won’t give up on reading that book. Was ‘give up’ even part of his vocabulary? He always seemed to have an answer, a reason for everything. “You’d be surprised, but I haven’t found anything in the medical tome designed for humans and elves that mentioned, let alone could help, a Dragon Egg!” Francis managed to get a little amusing smile out of Rayla. There was no way she was going to get his head out of helping her or the egg, but the fact he was willing to help and cared so much, despite knowing them for one day was admirable. She hated giving up and losing, but didn’t mind it on this occasion.

Sighing Rayla got up and retired to her sleeping spot, but just before lying down she looked back at Francis. She wasn’t going to let him completely get the better of her. He was already back in his book.

“Francis?” He looked up at her, before Rayla continued genuinely. “You are a good person!” For Rayla, that heart-warming smile she got out of him didn’t require any more words. She got one over him, she got a bigger smile out of him, than he out of her.


	8. Risks and Rewards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coming off of the back of a disaster, the team searched for anything that could help them solver their issues at hand. Meanwhile, Marcos returned to Katolis, where things were about to change for him fast.

“Told you I saw plumes of smoke,” Rayla said triumphantly to Callum. Francis smirked, he obviously knew that there was a little village, which looked more like a hamlet, up in the mountains here, located in front of a caldera. Callum sighed defeatedly, another lost bet with Rayla. Only Francis seemed to be able to win these. Ezran was thankfully much better, his body fought it off very well. In truth, it would be difficult to suggest that he decided to swim in a frozen lake the previous day.

Callum couldn’t stop thinking about what he overheard the previous night. Francis was a hero, to him, Ezran, his step-father and pretty much all of the people in the human kingdoms, with certain exceptions. Why would he ask such a question about himself? And the couple of outbursts he had? It was surreal to know that sometimes there were such diametrically opposing emotions beneath his friendly outlook. Callum had certainly grown wary of the possibility of Francis’s commanding presence turning into something scary and he certainly feared to be on the bad end of it. Francis was fine and cheery all day and there was no hint of hurt or grudges against Callum, but Callum still felt guilty, he couldn’t put it to rest.

“Francis, I’m sorry… about yesterday,” Callum apologised timidly, not knowing what reaction he would get.

Francis smiled. “You’re still stewing over that? You are a really good hearted, thoughtful and compassionate kid and you don’t need to apologise again. I got it the first time.” Francis replied genuinely.

“When?” Callum asked confused.

“The way your head ducks into your shoulder and that side-eyed glance you give me from underneath your messy hair.” Francis simply pointed out Callum’s mannerisms. “It’s obvious that you are beating yourself up over it and that you feel remorse.”

“It’s just… I don’t want to make things uncomfortable or be a nuisance.” Callum confessed. “I don’t want any bad feelings between us.” Callum almost jumped when he felt Francis put his hand around his shoulder. Callum looked at Francis and his soft glowing eyes made him ease a bit.

“Callum, I know you’re a kind boy with good intentions, but a little impulsive sometimes. Believe me, all of us make mistakes and it’s okay, as long as you learn from them. I promise next time I’ll control myself better.” Callum smiled back at him. He felt reassured and safe again. “It is a great strength of yours to be so concerned about other people and how you make them feel, just make sure you carefully choose people to concern yourself with.” A glint of cheekiness flashed across Francis’s eyes, he winked at Callum and then very demonstratively said. “Like Rayla, for example. She certainly needs to be in front of an audience to show-off her skills!”

Rayla scowled lightly. “Says the guy wearing eye catching blue clothes and a green cape!” She quipped.

“I’m not the one doing unnecessary dose of backflips during every fight!” Francis matched.

“You’re just jealous you can’t do a backflip!” Rayla fired back.

“Guys, let’s not fight, we’re all friends here.” Ezran interrupted, still a little too young to understand the sarcastic humour being shown on full display.

“We’re a team Ezran,” Francis explained with an amusing grin plastered across his face. “It’s just joking between two good friends.”

“Friends?” Rayla mocked, her removed Moonshadow tendencies were calling out to her. “That’s rather swift from you, considering I’ve only met you a day and a half ago.”

“Yes, Rayla,” Francis said sarcastically. “We’re approaching a human village right now, be sure to mention that we are only acquaintances and reveal all of our cards when I have to save your skin from an angry mob or a fight.”

“Save my skin in a fight?!” Rayla sounded outraged.

“With that hand of yours, you really should have your back covered.” Francis said seriously.

“Pfft, I can do it on my own, thank you very much.” Rayla said confidently, but Francis didn’t look particularly happy with that response, considering the disapproving face he shot at her. “What are you looking at me like that for? I would like to let you know that I wouldn’t even need to fight, because I, Rayla the Moonshadow elf, am a master of disguises! Get ready to meet,” she ran over to Ezran to pull out his black cloak, that she put over herself. She made sure to cover her pointy ears and horns. “Human Rayla!” The princes looked at her uncertainly and with great concern. Francis on the other hand leaned in, clearly intrigued to feast his eyes and ears on whatever Rayla’s impression of humans were.

“Oh, you really have peaked my interest,” he said smiling widely, his eyes going kooky. “Anything else?” He knowingly encouraged her.

“The illusion is not complete,” Rayla replied, “I may pass off as human, but I must sound like one too!” Callum wasn’t sure if he should be afraid or intrigued just like Francis was. Rayla took a deep breath. “Greetings, fellow humans! Human fellows!” Rayla said with a horrible accent she produced by speaking more nasally and high-pitched. Callum was cringing heavier than he did whenever he looked at his own bed hair in the mirror. Bait still managed to pull off an even grumpier and less impressed expression. Francis looked like he did his hardest not to burst out laughing, his eyes giving him away completely. “I sure do like hanging out with other humans,” Rayla bumped Callum with her elbow, acting real buddy-buddy with him. “And talking about things like money… and starting wars.” Rayla pulled up the cloak like a magician ready to unleash her next trick.

“That’s pretty good actually,” Ezran said while Callum scoffed at him, then at Rayla.

“Totally, my good human friend!” Rayla continued more radiantly.

“I mean, you do exaggerate the right things, so this isn’t disastrous… surprisingly!” Francis added, acting super calmly, despite his laughing eyes. “Just don’t speak at all whatsoever, because your voice isn’t going to cut it.”

“Oh yeah, and what about you?” Rayla put her hands on her sides. “Aren’t you this well-known persona that attracts so much attention, people scream and call you out or something?” She jabbed. “By the way, why do people not call you by your actual name?”

“They either don’t know it or it’s frowned upon by the authorities in some places.” Francis said slightly deadpan. “Besides, I’ve got my own black cloak that I wear near highly populated areas.”

“What about us?” Ezran asked, pointing at himself and Callum. “Wouldn’t they know about us?”

“It’s a hamlet. I doubt they would recognise you, considering you stayed in Katolis all your life.” Francis reassured. “I mean maybe they wouldn’t recognise me either, especially if I hid my cape, but I would rather not risk it. I have made quite a lot of noise on more than a few occasions.”

“Yeah, a lot is an understatement,” Callum said preparing his witty remark. “Taking on three people at the same time, managing to hold onto a fort that no one ever done before, defeating four grown men with a stool and paying the bartender after…” Francis only groaned in response.

“Well, we’re all suited up and covered,” Rayla said optimistically. “Bring it in. High four!” Ezran was happy to indulge and slapped her good hand.

“And that’s a dead giveaway.” Francis pointedly remarked.

“Can you impersonate a fifth finger?” Callum jested.

“Right,” Rayla realised. “I need some sort of a hand disguise,” she looked around, and just before the closest cabin, she saw the solution she was looking for. “Look guys, snow-elf!” She rushed off to it.

“I’m pretty sure that’s a snow-man.” Ezran looked quizzically at Francis.

“Snow-elves do exist, so don’t worry too much about it.” Francis replied, waving off Ezran’s concern. “Lost in translation, cultural shock, no need to be scrupulous on this occasion. It is Rayla’s first time in the human kingdoms, after all.”

“What does ‘scrupulous’ mean?” Ezran asked.

“Oh, um, thorough.” Francis sighed, he needed to be a little more vernacular with his speech around Ezran, but it would benefit him learning a few more words. “Come on, let’s not fall behind Rayla.”

The princes followed Francis and Rayla towards the snow-man, who was degloved by Rayla. She triumphantly wore them, extending her hands forward. “Hand disguise!” It was obvious however that she only had four fingers, as the pinkie part of the glove turned flaccid, flapping occasionally in the breeze. She shook them, but they remained limp.

“Just don’t shake hands with anyone.” Callum proposed a solution. “Let’s go and maybe we can find help for the egg.”

The princes both turned, as Francis led them towards the village. Rayla lingered behind for a bit. She took the carrot out of the snow-man’s face, snapped it in half and put it on top of his head, giving it horns.

“Now it’s a snow-elf.” She turned to catch up with the rest of the team.

* * *

Callum couldn’t feel the dullness of the day, as the jocund mood was kept up by a jaunty Francis and an excessively animated Rayla. It felt good, but also distracting. It definitely didn’t bother Rayla, as she seemed to eagerly waltz on by, having an indescribable amount of fun.

“Just walking into town, without a care in the world, despite my sub-century life expectancy.” Rayla said awfully buoyantly in her terrible human accent. Callum hinted to her to lower her voice. She was a little shocked that his usually wry humour wasn’t appreciating her overexaggerated sarcastic output.

“That’s the spirit!” At least Ezran supported Rayla.

“Good things come in small packages.” Francis said, sounding edifying. “You’re trying too hard, Rayla. Sometimes less is more.”

“Ugh, I’m tired of your eloquent words and cryptic messages.” Rayla said lightly. She was irritated, but not really too annoyed by it. “Can you be less than some of my kind and be a bit more like me, straightforward and direct?” At least she was somewhat self-aware.

“Be yourself, Rayla. You’ll stand out less.” Francis explained.

“But I’m not a human. How…”

“Do you want to announce that fact any louder so that everyone in the village finds out about this?” Callum whispered as loudly as he dared, afraid to be the one to give it away. Rayla went silent, but not because Callum told her. Her ears twitched. She got good at ignoring gossiping and talks behind her back, when her parents deserted their duty, but unlike in Silvergrove the conversation of the passers-by weren’t about her.

“Did you know That Guy From The Tournament was seen in Katolis a few days ago?”

“I thought He died?”

“No, The Prodigy has returned…”

Rayla almost slipped up by calling out Francis’s name, so instead she tugged and pulled him back by his cloak. He looked at her and it seemed that he was concerned. Perhaps he overheard it as well.

“They were talking about you,” she whispered.

“Ugh, great,” Francis sighed. “Even this little hamlet heard about my escapade back at Katolis.”

“What do we do?” Rayla continued to whisper.

“The princes don’t need to know about this, I don’t want to shake their composure.” Francis muttered. “Both of us entering the village, with our cloaks and hoods on, will look extremely suspicious and I don’t want to deal with any nosy villagers.” Francis’s look went pensive again, as he put his ‘thinking face’ on again. Rayla was about to call him out on it and ask what he was thinking about, but Francis got ahead of her. “Look!” He pointed to a massive gathering around the village’s fountain. “We must integrate into it, we’ll stand out less that way! Quick, act like you’re interested!”

Rayla put up her best coolheaded and intrigued human posture and face, but deep down she felt herself tense up. Firstly, how would they get the princes to come along with them, without causing them to become suspicious? Francis elegantly managed to capture Ezran’s attention towards whatever the crowd was excited about and Ezran even went ahead and started to pull Francis towards it. Callum had no choice but to follow his little brother. Well, that was awfully easy.

Secondly, she was going to be completely surrounded by humans and be uncomfortably close to them. What if somebody managed to get a peek inside her hood? How would she escape or fight off? The closer they got to the captivated crowd, the more nervous she felt. Francis must have sensed it somehow, when he turned around. He gave her a reassuring gaze and it was almost enough for her to relax the tension in her body.

Francis leaned in to avoid the leading Ezran from overhearing them. “Me and Callum are here, stay close to us. Alternatively, if you must, you can hold onto my or Callum’s hand.”

“No, I’m not a little wee scared elf!” Rayla said fuming slightly by Francis’s suggestion of her cowardice… even if it wasn’t entirely false.

“I know, but perhaps we could altogether pass off as a travelling family. Everyone thinks I’m travelling alone.” Francis clarified.

“Why am I so short?” Ezran whined. “I won’t be able to see a thing!” Without saying anything else, Francis lifted Ezran and placed him onto his shoulders. Ezran’s elation erupted on his face. “This again? Thank you, I feel so tall now and I can see everything!”

Francis looked back at Rayla. Her expression didn’t change, so he summarised. “Look, just stay close and… only if you absolutely have to.”

Rayla swallowed, as they entered the heart of the crowd. She told herself she wasn’t afraid, but she was being a massive ball of nerves. Any suspicious minute movement from a villager would make her jump. Blending in, in this way, was dangerous to say the least. Her hand was crippled and she could get her entire team exposed. Francis however looked unfazed to her, his face was stoic and his eyes were calm. In that moment she envied him. She couldn’t tell that in fact, Francis was just as nervous as she was, only it was so well hidden. It simply never surfaced. He had obviously done this on his own many times across his travels in Eastern Xadia, but unlike his previous experience, his team’s true identity was also at stake.

Rayla looked at the subject of the crowd’s attention – a blond young man with a moustache. He stood in front of the fountain, waving his hands and sharply turning every now and then to look at the entirety of the crowd.

“I, Tristan, defended the border against all manners of horrors and monstrosities. Things that you can’t even imagine. There’s nothing I fear now,” the young man spoke with cool confidence, cracking any possible pretence of pure arrogance. Until… “In fact, I wager I could defeat any challenger here, with nothing but my dagger!” He pointedly tapped to the sheath on his side.

The crowd gasped at such bold claims from the man. Callum however wasn’t interested and he waved to his friends to leave. He turned to lead them out, but Rayla, absentmindedly, grabbed his hand and didn’t let go.

“What are you doing?” Callum stood there, confused.

“I’m holding your hand; what do you think I’m doing?” Rayla pointed out, but she realised how it sounded, only when she heard herself say it. She lightened her grip on his hand, but didn’t let go immediately, as she tried to hide her embarrassment. She looked away from Callum and back at Tristan. She needed an excuse for Callum to stay, the group couldn’t separate. Thankfully, she noticed his dagger and immediately recognised the elven runes on them, allowing her to play if off coolly in front of Callum. “You’ll want to see this.” The tension in Callum’s wrist disappeared and Rayla was content on letting it go… but not too far away.

“He isn’t lying,” Francis pointed out. “I can see the guy is most likely a mercenary and he has definitely been in a fight. His bold claim, although ridiculous, doesn’t seem unfounded. This is all for show though, so rule number one in these situations is to undercut your opponent. If I wasn’t so popular and we were in a different situation, I would challenge him with my bare hands.”

“Why?” Ezran managed to say it before Rayla or Callum could.

“Because it will unnerve him and also instead of me underestimating him, he would underestimate me. I would put my money on this man, no matter who challenges him, but I don’t do bets and also it will attract unnecessary amounts of attention.” He glanced to check on Rayla and noticed how her hand lingered around Callum’s. “Don’t worry Rayla, the crowd is focusing on that guy, so they wouldn’t take note of us. Relax and enjoy! Panem et circenses!”

Tristan, having waited for a long time, decided to be a little more bold than he already was, as he began to eye his potential opponents to call them out. He waved his finger around before making his choice.

“How about… you!” He pointed at Rayla. Caught off guard, Rayla froze to the spot and this time tightly grabbed both Francis’s and Callum’s hands. Callum managed to barely suppress a yelp. To Rayla’s rescue, a large chunky man three times the size and height of Tristan menacingly loomed behind him. He pulled a large sword, its size doubled Tristan’s height.

“This isn’t even my biggest sword!” The large man chuckled. “The biggest one is reserved for the special occasions… or the elves!”

“Ow, you’re hurting me!” Callum turned to Rayla, almost to force her off of his hand. “What’s the matter with you? Why are you so jumpy today?”

Rayla lightened her grip and sighed. “If you were completely surrounded by people of the opposite race and they hated your kind, how would you feel?” She tried to spell it out, not particularly enjoying the fact that she needed to admit it.

“Oh,” Callum realised. “Sorry, it’s just normal for me nowadays and I’m just comfortable around you. That thought didn’t even occur to me.” Rayla was finally able to let go of their hands, regaining her composure, realising that no one was going away or being separated.

The crowd foolishly bet on the big guy. The two fighters squared off. The big guy swung overhead and Tristan unsheathed his dagger. The blade gave off an incandescent light, like it was only just removed from a forge. Tristan swiped the dagger above him and it sliced through the big guy’s sword like it was butter. The cut off part fell to the ground with a clang. The big guy backed off in fear, as the crowd gasped.

“I sure do hope that wasn’t your biggest sword.” Tristan snarked. “Anyone else?”

When no one else challenged him, his show was over and he went away, pocketing his winnings as he left. The crowd began to slowly dissipate into their boring chores.

“What was that?” Callum asked, awestruck.

“It’s a…” Francis began.

“…Sun Forge blade.” Rayla cut ahead of Francis, then gave him a look and stuck her tongue at him. “I’m the resident of Xadia, so I get to tell all this cool stuff!”

“ _Eastern_ Xadia,” Francis bemoaned. “We both are experts at it. I guess we’ll have to find a way to collaborate on some presentations of it.”

“Wow! I can’t believe I saw a real Sun Forge blade.” Ezran excitedly gleamed from above Francis’s head, as he warmed his hands in Francis’s hair. He narrowed his eyes and turned to Rayla. “What’s a Sun Forge blade?” Francis had to really hold himself back from spilling all of the knowledge.

“In Xadia…” Rayla stopped herself when she noticed Francis’s displeased stare, about to correct her again. “… Eastern Xadia, Sunfire elves can make magic weapons that stay as hot as the moment they got forged for hundreds of years. The runes on his sheath protect him from the heat. Otherwise, well…”

“His pants would be on fire?” Ezran inquired.

“Probably, definitely and it wouldn’t just stop at that,” Francis responded.

“Yeah,” Rayla agreed, smirking. “His legs too.”

“Rayla,” Callum called out after he stopped pondering. “If that dagger can cut through a steel sword like it was butter, would you say it can cut through pretty much anything?”

“I like where your head is at, Callum,” Francis complimented. “For all your impulsivity sometimes you can think quickly on your feet and come up with decent ideas.”

“Yeah, it can cut through anything.” Rayla answered Callum, not catching on… but then she gasped. “My wrist binding!” She quickly hid her painful wince. It had been a while since she felt it tighten that much.

“You have to go get that dagger.” Callum said, looking like he was very pleased with himself.

“It is worth a try.” Francis encouraged. That made Callum shine even more, but Francis seemed more grounded. “Although I’m not sure if it can work. These assassin bindings are never meant to be taken off so easily. There are no shortcuts around it.”

“It won’t hurt to try,” Rayla said. Her eyes diverted to Ezran’s backpack. “What about the egg?”

“It’s fine,” Callum reassured. “Us three will find help for the egg. Just meet us back at the fountain.”

“No,” Francis said abruptly, lowering down to let Ezran get off of his neck. “I shouldn’t go with you. The less I interact with others, the less likely I’ll be recognised. If my cover is blown, you boys will still be safe and at the very least you two won’t be associated with me. You’ll be safe from the village crowds. I’ll go and help Rayla.”

“I don’t need your help,” Rayla said curtly. “I’m fine on my own.”

“Rayla, you may be right, but we’re a team now. We do things together!”

“This is my mission, for my benefit,” Rayla argued.

“It’s our mission for our benefit!” Francis said firmly. “These things will affect us. If anything goes wrong, it’s imperative that you have a back-up plan and some help!”

“Nothing will go wrong, I can sort it out. Besides we’ll look shady if we both do it, so let me just do this on my own.” Rayla responded. Despite her having a point, she felt that the conversation would drag on and on, since Francis was very sure of himself when it came to safety and things like this. He still looked unconvinced, but then he said something that took Rayla by surprise.

“Alright, fine. I guess I’ll just go for a lovely stroll in the village.” Francis deadpanned. Rayla thought she would have to bleed and sweat in order to convince him to stay away, but for some reason he was easily swayed here. The princes were put at ease once they realised that there wouldn’t be an ongoing debate between two of the most unconditional people in the group. Rayla however narrowed her eyes in a sign of distrust. Francis didn’t notice it, as he was cheerfully looking at the princes. “It has been a while since I took a nice, calming and relaxed walk. It is snowy and I guess it is my calling.” Perhaps she did convince him.

“By the way,” Ezran looked concerningly at Rayla, feeling like he knew the answer to his upcoming question. “How will you get that dagger?”

“I’m going to ask nicely.” Rayla said, with a knowing smile, as she twirled around, pulling her hood further up. She ran in Tristan’s direction, her footsteps softly springing from the cold stone road below her.

“Well, guess I’ll have to keep myself busy.” Francis said, casually hinting at the disapproval of it.

“What are we supposed to look for?” Callum asked.

“I don’t know,” Francis replied, then asked a leading question. “What exactly are you looking for?”

“We’re not sure…”

“Then how can I answer that question?” Francis delivered his point. “Find something that could help the egg. You’ll only be able to figure it out once you get there, but I can’t help you with it. You’ll have to come up with the plan of action on your own.”

“Oh,” Callum looked a little down and nervous.

“Hey, Callum, you got this. You’re a smart kid, you’ll be fine.” Francis put a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you sure?” A hint of hope rose in Callum’s eyes.

“Of course, more than sure, I’m certain of it.” Francis inspired Callum, who got convinced and energised. He was just a little too curious to keep his mouth shut.

“How do you know?” Callum asked what he thought was an empty question, but in reality could undo Callum’s confidence if Francis told him the truth. Callum had to find help, otherwise the egg would die. He simply couldn’t fail. Francis needed Callum to begin his search composed and not overthink everything, like he tended to. It was Francis that needed to be one to overthink things. He gave a reassuring and reticent smile.

“I just know.”

* * *

Returning to Katolis felt a little weird for Marcos. There were many things that could be considered as wrongdoings. He had technically abandoned his duty when he galloped to the Banther Lodge, which could be considered deserting. No one knew that he had set Rayla free, a traitorous act. Despite the fact that he got told that the elf threatened their lives and took them as prisoners, Marcos remained faithful that he did the right thing. He trusted Francis’s belief.

It was rare when Francis was wrong about someone or something and he almost never completely misjudged the situation. He was a rising strategist and tactician, but he was also driven to always be better. He realised that perfection was impossible, but it never discouraged him from striving towards it. He always wanted things to go well, perfect even, which made him prone to overthink even the most simplest of things, provided they mattered to him. Overanalysing however made him pay attention to the smallest of details, which is why in a short amount of time his judgement was so comprehensive and accurate. It seemed that nothing, not even a heartbeat, went unnoticed from Francis’s acute eyes.

It was unsurprisingly clear to Marcos that Francis had grown bigger and stronger and he was saddened that he couldn’t catch up with him over the four years they spent away. Marcos certainly missed his leadership, guidance and advice, especially on how to deal with Marcos’s soldiers who were older and disobeyed him. Francis was just able to find a way to control these sorts of characters and inflated egos and Marcos was still searching for that way. Francis always had this funny way of guiding people. He would get really friendly and drip feed you a lot of information, but at a certain moment he would disappear and leave you to deal with things on your own, often watching from the sides. It helped, but without his calming and reassuring presence it was always nerve-racking.

Marcos sat down for lunch. He was numbingly hungry from the long travel, despite General Amaya’s filling breakfast. Somehow everyone knew that Francis made an appearance in Katolis during King Harrow’s funeral. In fact, it was apparently Marcos’s father who recognised him and the news spread like wildfire. Marcos wondered if Francis’s family knew about it or pointedly ignored the gossip. Francis always had a complicated relationship with his family, but he would certainly appreciate to know that they were fine. Marcos made a mental note to visit Lydia, Francis’s grandmother. He cared a lot about her and even prised her, she was practically the one who raised him. It would make her so happy to know that Francis was alive and well. It would bring sunshine to her in a world where not many good things have been happening recently.

With that being said, Marcos became suspicious whilst overhearing a conversation. General Amaya has told him that a search party for the princes, led by Commander Gren, was supposed to depart with him once Marcos returned, but to Marcos’s astonishment they had already left. Only Soren and Claudia were seen to be part of it, while Gren had not been seen for two days. Marcos felt that it wasn’t a coincidence that it was only Viren’s children who set out on their journey. He remembered how Viren treated Callum on the night King Harrow died. It set off even more red flags for him. There was something going on… gosh, he was becoming more like Francis with his overthinking brain, eager to unravel a challenge or a mystery.

“There he is, the deserter.” It was the voice of his second-in-command. He heard a rush of guards approach him. “I told you he was unreliable and too young to be leading a section!”

“I am no deserter,” Marcos didn’t face the oncoming guards, already exhausted from this. He calmly produced a scroll out of his pocket with a seal. “Here is the letter validating and excusing my actions by General Amaya herself.” Marcos stood up and turned around. He was surprised for a split second to see his second-in-command with the platoon commander, but then it slowly began to make sense. Marcos came confidently to both of them and handed the scroll to the platoon commander.

“I am displeased about this,” his second-in-command kept going. “We’re led by a weak leader, who abandoned his position for sentimental reasons!”

“I didn’t abandon anything, you didn’t follow my orders! That is dissent! Ensuring the protection of the princes that night was top priority!” Marcos spoke adamantly.

“Platoon commander, I believe it is in your best interest to remove Marcos from his position as a section commander. My whole section will support me and your decision.” Marcos’s suspicions were confirmed there and then. The little rat was vying for his spot; jealousy had consumed him. Well, his second-in-command was in for a rude surprise. The platoon commander carefully inspected the paper for what seemed like a third time, his eyes becoming wider and wider.

“It is already done,” he said, as he handed the scroll back to Marcos, trying his best to cover the shock in his voice.

“Great, I’m so glad General Amaya has some sense.” Oh how ironic…

“What are your orders, sir?”

“What?” Marcos would remember the face that his now former second-in-command made when he heard that.

“He is a commanding officer now. He is one of the company commanders!”

“Why aren’t you celebrating?” Marcos asked snidely. “You wanted me out, didn’t you? Well, you’ve got it now. Shouldn’t you be happy?” His second-in-command stood in stunned silence. “Now, didn’t I say I was going to deal with you?”

“What is your first order, sir?” The platoon commander asked again.

“Well, firstly the table needs to be clean and that’s your job now.” Marcos pointed at the seething second-in-command. “Secondly, I have been away from my former section, so I will inspect it. Not a speck of dirt on your armour or you will be cleaning the entire canteen for a week, you’ve got thirty minutes.”

“Yes, sir.” The second-in-command replied through gritted teeth, as he turned to carry out Marcos’s orders. Those were going to be his last thirty minutes in charge of a section.

“You’re dismissed.” Marcos said to the platoon commander. He would decide on a new section commander and second-in-command later. For now, he needed to find Alan, one of the commanding officers. General Amaya did say that Alan would fill him in on everything that she needed to be informed about and who could be trusted and relied upon.

* * *

“Look!” Ezran exclaimed, as he and Callum came to a wooden sign. It had the face of a horse and a silhouette of a dog carved into it, above a heart shaped hole. “Do you think this is some kind of animal doctor?”

“I think so,” Callum pondered. “Or a dating service for pets?”

“Oh, Bait, we can maybe find you a sweetheart.” Ezran teased Bait in his arms. He croaked disapprovingly.

“He is too grumpy to be in a relationship.” Callum scoffed at Bait, who turned a little redder.

“It’s fine, it’s probably an animal doctor.” Ezran calmed Bait down.

They both stepped inside, to see a dark skinned man tending to a horse. His hair, moustache and beard were already turning grey.

“I’ll be with you in just a moment,” the doctor’s voice was surprisingly brisk. Callum always thought doctors were supposed to sound slow and methodical, but maybe that was reserved for inspection and treatment. Ezran and Callum slowly approached the doctor, who finally turned around. He had an eagerness to help in his eyes, as he drew his glasses closer to his eyes to carefully regard the boys. That eagerness faded away unforgivingly quick. “Oh, I’m so sorry, but there is nothing I can do for that poor creature.”

“What?” Ezran stood confused, but Callum caught on quickly.

“Oh no, no, no,” Callum chuckled a little. “Bait is fine. We have, uh, a different problem.” Callum realised that he and Ezran had a challenge: to try and explain the actual problem without saying it was a dragon egg. How was he supposed to put it into words? He noticed that Ezran was already distracted, as he approached the horse the doctor treated before they came. Callum let it go, as it gave him some time to come up with something.

“Oh, what happened to you, little sweetie?” Ezran connected his hand with the horse’s snoot. It whinnied. “You saw something really scary, didn’t you?”

“She sure did,” the doctor explained, putting a bucket of water in front of the horse. “This one ran away up the Cursed Caldera. Whatever she saw, she’s lucky it only scared her. How did you know she saw something?”

“I could tell.” Ezran smiled. The doctor could only look at him charmed. Callum sighed heavily, this really wasn’t a good time for Ezran’s shenanigans to come up.

“Well, she certainly won’t make that mistake again!” The doctor said. “So, you were saying you had a ‘different problem’?”

“It might take a long time to explain,” Callum began.

“Luckily, I have plenty. You boys look a little chilly, let me pour you some hot and refreshing tea, while you explain.” Callum wanted to politely refuse his very kind offer, but considering that Ezran had been ill the previous night, having a warm drink would only do him a world of good.

As the doctor poured them a fine black tea, Callum spoke… very slowly. “Well, uh, a friend of ours has a problem…”

“A friend of your?” The doctor asked.

“Jofus,” Ezran jumped in, only for the doctor to look at him confused. “That’s a real name.”

“Yes,” Callum was irritated that his flow was interrupted. “It is surprisingly a real name. So our friend Jofus has an egg…” Callum began to stammer. “… an animal egg. He took really good care of it. You know, keeping it warm and safe… wrapped up in blankets,” then he quickly went over the next bit. “Except that one time he dropped it into an icy lake for several minutes.” Callum cleared his throat to continue, but the doctor cut in.

“Excuse me, what did you say?”

“He dropped it into an icy lake.” Ezran cleared up, giving a disapproving look at Callum.

“Joseph, uh, Jofus did. That was Jofus.” Callum pointed out, much to the chagrin of Ezran.

“We did.” Ezran corrected him.

“Right, dropping an animal egg into the lake sounds really bad.” The doctor said keen to avoid a feud between the two brothers.

“Yeah, we’re worried it’s hurt,” Callum said. “The egg is colder and it doesn’t glow as it used to.”

“Glow? You have a glowing egg?”

“Uh, yes,” Callum realised that maybe he dropped an unnecessary detail there.

“Look,” the doctor spoke genuinely. “I can tell you have a real problem. I want to help, but I can’t do that if you don’t tell me what’s really going on.” The brothers looked at each other uneasily and a question was floating on their lips. They were very hesitant, it was risky. The doctor looked kindly at them. “I promise I won’t get you in trouble.”

“You can’t tell anyone.” Ezran said without consulting his brother. The doctor nodded.

Callum sighed, there was no other way but to trust him. In that situation he wished he had Francis’s eloquence. But what did they have to lose now? They had to try. He gave a look of consent to Ezran. His little brother took a deep breath and put his backpack on the table. Callum could feel the nerves build-up in Ezran… or was it his own nerves? His breath went a tad bit short and shaky. The moment of truth. What if the guy broke his promise? What if they got themselves caught by the entire village? He thought this was going to be a simple conversation when he entered the building, but this was way more complicated and impactful than a simple conversation. Why did these questions only come up now? His brain was slowly being overwhelmed with thoughts and possibilities, as he froze in his seat, even forgetting to breathe.

Ezran finally removed the flap, revealing the egg. The doctor’s jaw dropped as he gasped, his eyes were wider than plates. Callum refused to blink, he was almost expecting him to attack or tell on them. Since when had he become so distrustful of humans?

“That’s a dragon egg, isn’t it?” He began inspecting it closely, putting his ear to it, he spoke almost absentmindedly, clearly focusing on the egg. “I’ve only seen pictures… in books… it shouldn’t be… so different.” Upon closer inspection, he lifted his head and looked worriedly at the boys. “I do hear a heartbeat, but it’s faint and slow… it’s dying… and I don’t know what to do to save it.” Callum’s first reaction was to look at a dejected Ezran, but he wasn’t crying… not yet.

“No, there has to be a way! Anything, please… I… I went…” Ezran broke into tears, he was desperate. He thought he had done everything, but it wasn’t enough. He was holding the egg, naively hoping that his warm embrace would suffice, would prevent it from dying. Then it hit Callum, the entire team relied on them to find help, to save the egg. What made everything worse was that with no one to turn to, the world relied on them two to succeed. The relations between humans and elves were at stake, their entire journey was at stake. The expectations were higher than ever, higher than it was back at Katolis. Callum tried to keep himself calm and collected. He needed to look like it at least, for his brother. He held him as they headed for the exit.

“Come on, Ez, we’ll find another way,” Callum said almost trying to convince himself more than Ezran. His thoughts raced in his head, trying to just find a starting point in their next move.

“Wait!” The doctor called out one last time. “I can see you’re desperate, which makes me hesitant to tell you this. It is incredibly dangerous…”

“Please, I don’t know where to start or where else to go.” Callum spoke out, somehow sounding more distressed that Ezran was. “You realise how important this egg is for us! Our friends will keep us safe from any dangers.”

“There was a miracle a few years ago,” the doctor said carefully with a heavy reluctant sigh, perhaps not entirely sure he was convinced or comfortable with Callum’s reassurance. “But it happened… on The Cursed Caldera.” Callum swallowed hard. He would be happy to opt out of this option, but he didn’t have any other alternatives. “Before you go, there is someone you should talk to.”

* * *

Rayla had to start running after Tristan. Something tipped him off. He was certainly more attentive than most humans. He was almost as attentive as Francis… heavy emphasis on almost. She naturally climbed a house like she would climb a tree and followed him from the rooftops. It was certainly easier to jump from stable and solid roofs than from narrow and occasionally slippery tree branches. This chase was laughable compared to when she had to chase Marcos. Tristan finally ran along an alleyway into a dead end, forcing him to unsheathe his dagger. Rayla graciously landed behind him, making Tristan jump.

“I won that money fair and square!” Tristan barked.

“I don’t want your money and I don’t want to fight you.” Rayla said normally, without her accent. “I want your help.”

Tristan looked distrustfully at her. It certainly didn’t help how shadily she approached him. “What kind of help?” He spat, still holding his blade up at her.

“I just want to borrow your blade to cut this.” Rayla explained, pointing to her binding.

“Oh, yeah? You just want to ‘borrow’ this blade. Do you have any idea…”

“Fine,” Rayla impatiently cut him off. “You can hold it, just cut this thing off me.”

“But it will burn you.” Tristan said.

“I don’t care!” Rayla began to lose her cool. She was very tempted to snatch the dagger out from his hand. “Just cut this stupid thing already!” She presented to him her bound arm and Tristan tentatively approached it. She readied herself for the incoming searing and scorching burn.

Tristan lowered his blade, as Rayla felt the growing heat from it. However before Tristan could start cutting the binding, Rayla’s glove caught fire. She yelped, taking the glove off and throwing it to the ground, revealing her four fingers.

“You’re one of them!” Tristan gasped.

Rayla realised her mistake. She quickly put her hands behind her back and put up her awful accent. “Who, me? I’m just a simple human girl, who like the human things, like bread and complaining all the time.”

“No! You’re an elf! You savage monsters!” Tristan hissed.

“Fine,” Rayla dropped the accent again. “I’m an elf.” She prepared to wrestle for the dagger, but a voice stopped her… a third, more chilling voice.

“How dare you?”

The sun hid behind the clouds. Rayla was largely able to ignore the cool air, but now she shivered from the cold wind blowing in the alley. Tristan turned around. A shadow slowly approached them, his steps were measured, but massive, clearly holding back the urge to sprint at them. Rayla couldn’t believe her eyes, when the man’s hood came off.

“You?” Tristan uttered. “The… The… The Prodigy?”

Rayla couldn’t recognise Francis, everything that she saw in him over the previous days was gone. The hospitable warmth that glowed from his entire body, his smile, his posture, were replaced by a stern cold stance. His eyes were the only thing that glowed and they glowed brightly in this dark alleyway… but not with his warm kindness, but with his pure, unbridled, heavily concealed rage. It was as if something tried to barge through from the inside, desperately trying to escape his disciplined body. His icy cold stare could pierce through anything and Rayla felt small under them. It was by far sharper than his sword or tongue were. Rayla was intimidated and scared at the mere sight of Francis’s anger about to erupt like a volcano and certainly wouldn’t want to be in Tristan’s position. She wasn’t sure if she should hold her breath, the deafening silence went on for so long.

“You have the gall to call my friend like that?” Francis’s face twitched as anger danced across his face.

“What?” Tristan, shocked by what he was hearing, dropped the dagger, as it melted into the snow. “But she’s an…”

“She’s my friend!” Francis said with ice cold fury. He gave out a frustrated sigh. “Have we forgotten what kindness is? Have we forgotten how to help those in need?”

“She is an enemy!” Tristan dared to bark back at him.

“And despite that fact, she reached out to you!” Francis was barely suppressing his shout. Rayla wondered, but didn’t want to find out, when he would finally boil over.

“Her kind are a bunch of monsters! You’ve heard the stories, they bring fear to everyone!” Tristan continued to dismiss Francis.

“She is not what you should fear at the moment,” Francis said eerily quiet, but his tone and words echoed around the enclosed alley. Even though he was alone, it sounded like there was more than one of him. There was a wild wolfish blink in his eyes. Rayla found it unsettling, as the bushy messy hair made him look even more unhinged. Tristan’s stance shook, he was rattled to the core. “Humans can get monstrous too… and nobody gets away with talking to my friends or hurting innocents like that.” Francis menacingly walked towards Tristan, seeming to grow taller with each step. He leant forward protruding his face and shoulders. Tristan’s knees seemed to have grown weaker, as he shrunk under Francis’s stare. Tristan cowered behind Rayla, he couldn’t bear to see Francis’s destructing stare. “Huh, after saying such vile things about my elf friend, you are now hiding behind her… coward!”

“Enough!” Rayla found the bravery to say it to Francis. She felt a little sorry for this mercenary human, but she was more scared of what Francis would do next. It felt unreal to see such a contrast in him. Rayla even flinched when his eyes met hers, but surprisingly they’ve grown much softer. He winked at her, which added to Rayla’s confusion. Was he enjoying this?

“Fine!” Francis said in the same vicious tone as he did previously, his facial features went icy and hostile again as he looked back at Tristan, who was on his knees, almost begging. “Just because my elf friend said it…”

“Please, I never meant to hurt your friend. I never meant to disappoint you. You can take the dagger.”

“She never wanted to take the dagger! She is not a thief!” Francis continued to have a go at him.

Rayla thought it would be best if she hurried up and tried the dagger already. She took the dagger and prepared herself yet again for the burning sensation on her hand. Wincing, she made cutting motions at the binding, until it burned too much to keep going. She managed to subdue her painful cry, but she couldn’t subdue her frustrations. The binding looked untouched… and it sunk deeper into her skin.

“No! Nothing can take this stupid binding off!” She threw the dagger to the side in resentment. She heard a commotion and sharply turned to look behind her. She saw Francis grab Tristan by the collar and thrash him up against the wall. Francis’s forearm remained on Tristan’s chest, which kept him pinned up.

“Now listen here, buddy,” Francis threatened. “If anybody in this village finds out about us… they better not… for your sake. I will know who to look for… and I will find you… and I will do intangibly abhorrent things to you.”

“Francis, stop!” Rayla exclaimed. Francis eased off of Tristan’s chest, who slumped to the ground.

“I hope you’ve learned something today,” Francis told Tristan. “There are a lot of lessons for you to take out of this.” Tristan scrambled away. “Don’t forget your dagger,” Francis pointed out tactfully, starting to sound more like himself, more familiar to Rayla. Tristan picked up his blade and sprinted away, quicker than he did when Rayla chased him. “Come on, let’s go,” Francis said calmly to Rayla. She gave him a confused look. “Don’t forget to put up your hood.” Francis remarked courteously, as he got his own hood on.

“Really?” Rayla was lost.

“What?” Francis asked casually.

“What was that?”

“I said I was going to help and I did. It turned out that you needed it after all.” Francis said without a hint of smugness.

“Why do you want to help me so badly?” Rayla asked, slightly exasperated.

“Because good people should be rewarded for their goodness, not pay for it.” Francis stated.

“I could’ve handled it on my own,” Rayla said.

“I’m sure you’re competent enough to handle things on your own,” Francis said sincerely. “But trust me it’s good to know that someone has your back.”

“I was fine,” Rayla said, but Francis was determined to explain.

“Rayla, some things should be done together. I’ve spent four years travelling on my own and there were many times I wished I wasn’t alone.” He sounded hurt, as Rayla gathered that he was being candid. Francis continued his heartfelt reflection. “There are many situations that you shouldn’t ever face on your own, because it can irreparably damage you or make you lost or lead you down a wrong path. This was one of them,” Francis paused, as he tried to shake off his associated memories. He continued to untangle his actions further. “I didn’t do this just for you, but also for us and… well, him. He was going to tell everyone about an elf in this town and being chased by a whole village doesn’t sound like the greatest idea right now.” Rayla’s face was still and she took a little too long to respond, so Francis added lightly. “But if you do want to make life difficult for us, I can certainly deliver the news myself! Now come on, let’s head back to the fountain.” Francis walked ahead. Rayla caught up with him, but maintained a gap between them. There was a tense uncomfortable silence for Rayla, forcing her to break it.

“You didn’t have to be like that to him,” she told him.

“Is that sympathy for humans I hear?” Francis asked in jest, then continued earnestly. “Perhaps I didn’t have to, but at the very least to him I made myself scarier than you,” but Tristan wasn’t the only one who was still slightly scared of Francis now! “So when you stood up for him and I pointed out how he was cowering behind you, it will undoubtedly have an impact on him. I can’t force him to stop hating or discriminating elves in a few quick interactions – that’s impossible. At the very least, he will go home and fester with that thought in his head, so that perhaps he makes better decisions next time around. Maybe he could change.” Francis glanced at Rayla and noticed a few things. “Didn’t I say that in a show the number one rule is to undercut your opponent – I did say I wasn’t going to use my sword.” Rayla held back a weak smile, as the tension within her eased a little. “Also hide your hands; your gloves are off.”

* * *

Callum knocked on the door of a thickly snow covered cabin, stowed away deep in the woods. This was it, if the animal doctor was right, then whoever lived here should have been able to tell them about this mysterious miracle healer. The door cracked open and a face of a young girl peered through, her eyes wandering up and down at the princes. She wore simple boots, a heavy winter coat and a fur hat. She had black hair, tied into a single braid flung behind her shoulder. She looked to the side and nodded, beckoning someone to come over. An animal snout appeared from behind the door and the princes faced a large wolf. It carefully sniffed and inspected the guests, then sat and approvingly nodded to the girl, who despite standing up was still much shorter than it. The girl lovingly ruffled the wolf’s fur.

“Hi, I’m Ellis and this is my sweetie wolf, Ava!” She smiled excitedly. “How can I help you?”

“I’m Callum and this is Ezran,” Callum introduced. He heard Bait croak displeasingly from Ezran’s hand. “… and Bait…” Callum trailed off. It only occurred to him now that his request would sound a little weird, but then again he was facing a girl, who seemed to be around Ezran’s age, who had a huge pet wolf and no parents in the immediate vicinity. There was also the last few days he had spent on the journey, a phenomenon that was so bizarre in its own right. He just had to pretend that he didn’t bat an eye, as with each new day the weird seemed to swiftly become the new normal. “The animal doctor told us that you may know of a miracle healer?”

“Yeah, I do. There was a miracle,” Ellis said, unshaken by Callum’s question. “But I still don’t know what happened exactly.”

“What was the miracle?” Ezran asked intrigued.

“Well, it involved me and Ava,” Ellis spoke solemnly. “Without it, Ava wouldn’t be alive right now.” Callum and Ezran looked at each other. This previously and technically still far-fetched idea, looked to have given them hope. “I can tell you more about it inside. Why don’t you come in?”

Ellis opened the door and the boys entered a small, but warm and comfy cabin. They sat on the chairs by the fireplace that lit up the room. Ellis sat opposite them, with Ava nestling beside her. Ellis scratched the wolf’s neck, that had a dangling shiny stone around it. Callum felt that there was something oddly familiar about it, but that feeling was insignificant compared to more pressing issues at hand.

“Please, tell us about this miracle.” Ezran asked, his patience seemed to have been fleeting ever since they left the animal doctor. Ellis smiled and burrowed deeper into her chair. It had been awhile since she recited that story, since everyone in the town knew about it.

“Two years ago, I was in the woods and found Ava, who was a little cub and the cutest thing I had ever seen. Somehow she got her front paw crushed by a rusty hunter’s trap.” Ava let out a howl, as though agreeing with her story… or re-enacting the events. “She didn’t want any help, but I could tell she had a determined spirit. When she let me unlock the trap, I took her to the animal doctor. Unfortunately her paw was too bad, and he had to remove it. I couldn’t leave her alone, so I named her Ava and took her home to heal.” Ezran smiled, he liked Ellis already. Ava wagged her tail, as Ezran sensed that her favourite part was coming up. “She grew strong so quickly and she was back to hopping on three legs in no time.” Ellis’s cheery face slowly changed as sadness spread from her eyes to the rest of her expression. “My father didn’t welcome Ava and he said that only suffering was part of her future. He said,” Ellis fell silent and after a pause managed to let out. “He wanted to put her down.” Ezran shook. How could someone say something like that about an animal, let alone a pet? How was it fair? Ellis regained her composure. “I knew she would become healthy, she just needed a chance… so I took her and ran away. Somewhere where no one would follow us – The Cursed Caldera.”

“What is The Cursed Caldera and why is it cursed?” Callum asked, afraid to hear the answer that he probably could guess correctly.

“It is the mountain behind this village and it is cursed because all kinds of monstrosities find refuge up there. It is a legend, one that Ava and I found out to be true.” Ava whimpered and the princes became unsettled. A horse can sometimes easily be scared, but if a wolf was scared at the mere mention of these monsters, then how truly horrifying were they? In Callum’s mind, he kept coming back to the same question: did they really have a choice? Ellis went on. “We went through a blizzard and we got surrounded by haunting shapes and terrifying eyes, that got worse and worse the higher we climbed up the caldera. Once the blizzard became too heavy, we hid inside a hollow trunk of an ancient tree. That was when she appeared.”

“Who?” Ezran asked, captivated by her story, as he sat closer to Ava and stroked her ear.

“The miracle healer. I never saw her face, only her silhouette up against a full moon.” Ezran frowned, didn’t she just say that there was a blizzard? Ezran chose to not say anything. Perhaps they waited it out. “She cradled Ava and a white light came from her hands. It was so bright I couldn’t see anything, but when I stopped covering my eyes, Ava had all of her four legs. It was like her front paw was never removed. The moonstone collar also appeared on her as well.” Ava barked signalling the end of the story.

Ezran looked at Callum, who returned him the look with new found excitement. Ezran was also excited but something nagged at him. Something was slightly off, but that ‘slightly’ did not give him rest. There was also something in the wolf’s eyes that Ezran couldn’t tell right away, something…

“We have to find this miracle healer!” Callum said a tad too fired up. “If she can heal a cub’s paw, maybe she could save the dragon egg!” Callum put both of his hands over his mouth, as he realised he said his thoughts out loud.

“Wait, repeat that?” Ellis asked.

“I said that maybe she could shave a wagon leg,” Callum said quickly, clearly not thinking how unconvincing and ridiculous it sounded. Ezran felt an unstoppable urge to slap himself in the face, but he managed to resist in order to keep his brother’s lie less obvious than it already was. Ellis tried to ask more questions, but the princes stood up and conveniently hurried off towards the exit.

“Sorry, but we have to go.” Ezran said. “Thank you so much for your help!”

“Thank you!” Callum said without looking at Ellis.

“Where are you going?” Ellis halted their quick exit.

“Up The Cursed Caldera,” Callum said nervously thinking there was a catch to her question.

“You’re clearly not a local, you never heard about The Caldera before,” Ellis pointed out. “So how are you going to find that ancient tree?”

“Uh…” Callum stuttered. She made a very good point and Callum couldn’t find a way to rebuttal it.

“Ava and I do know the way and we can show it to you.” Ellis glowed and Ava barked in support.

“I guess you’re right,” Callum said. Ezran tugged at his sleeve and hinted to his brother that it would be best if they told her the truth. Callum felt like there was no other choice. That was something the both of them could do on the way to the fountain.

* * *

Rayla sat cross-legged and slumped by the fountain. She was concealed by Ezran’s cloak, but it was clear that her shoulders were hunched. Francis paced around in circles around the fountain checking for many things: the princes, an oncoming slew of villagers, overtly curious bystanders…

There they were! Relief washed over Francis’s face, as he sat back down next to Rayla waving the boys to come to them. They ran over. Francis was surprised to see Callum looking more excited than Ezran, who seemed to be mulling over something.

“How’s your…” Callum started, but stopped as soon as Rayla showed him her hand. His face fell immediately, as he sat beside her. “I’m so sorry Rayla.”

“That’s the bad news, the Sun Forge blade didn’t work,” Rayla then tried to look brighter. “The good news is that the binding will fall off naturally… with my hand.” It wasn’t a great success at cheering up the mood for the boys, though Francis snorted.

“Dark humour, I love it.” He clarified.

“Tell me something good happened with the egg.” Rayla said, hoping that the boys weren’t as empty handed.

“Yes and no,” Callum stammered, then rambled on as he poorly put the results of their search into words. “Well… well, no, actually. Not yet, but maybe! So, yes! In a way…” Callum gave out a nervous chuckle.

“Okay, that’s averaging out to be a maybe-minus.” Rayla said looking down.

“Where’s the optimism?” Francis asked. “It sounds to me that we’ve got hope. There’s a chance, so I’ll deviate that towards the upper quartile and say that it’s in a range of a ‘possibly’ rather than a ‘maybe-minus’.” The boys and the elf looked at Francis confused, but they went with the flow anyway. Sometimes his eloquence and vocabulary didn’t quite make sense for those who weren’t as scholarly.

“We learned about a miracle healer, who might be able to help the egg.” Ezran said trying to lift Rayla’s spirits. Francis frowned, Ezran wasn’t as jolly and excited about this prospect of saving the egg. It nagged at Francis, as he thought that something wasn’t at rest, but right now it wasn’t the time to publicly question their only lead, no matter if Francis didn’t really trust such miracle stories. He had to believe in it just this once for his team. “And maybe she could help your hand too!” Ezran added looking auspiciously at Rayla. Francis melted, as he got reminded why he liked the kid so much… and being part of this team. Despite the dangerous journey and a looming threat of war, the team managed to stay its normal self, caring about each other just as much as the mission. Their spirits always seemed to be somewhat up.

“Really?” Rayla uncrossed her legs and sat up.

“The only catch is, the healer lives up there,” Callum pointed up to the caldera behind the village. “The Cursed Caldera.”

“Please tell me that it is named after the great explorer Sir Phineas Cursed?” Rayla said feigning hope in her voice. Callum didn’t catch on.

“Well, it’s named that because it is infested with all kinds of monsters.”

“Yeah, no, I know.” She said irritated by the thickness of Callum’s skull. Francis gave out an unflappable smile.

“Sounds exciting.” He said. “Although, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was also named after the good old Sir. With his legendary status of being so terribly unlucky, it is a miracle he survived. He always broke something in his body and toyed with death on every expedition. Maybe he was lucky, depends on how you look at it. He did live deep into old age.” Francis cleared his throat. “So how do we get to this miracle healer?”

“We’ve got help.” Callum said, standing up, tugging Rayla up with him. “Come on, you should meet them.”

Francis gave out a short, sharp and happy sigh. Callum did well, he succeeded. They set out, as Francis carefully eyed up any potential troublemakers, thankfully there were none. He took this opportunity to speak with Ezran. “Hey, Ez,” He said, kindness spilling out of his eyes. “Something seems amiss. Is there something bothering you?”

“Why do you ask that?” Ezran asked, looking a little exposed.

“You seem quieter and not as thrilled by this idea as Callum is. I just thought you would be a little more on the ball about this.”

“Oh,” Francis noticed that Ezran was weighing something up. He wasn’t totally comfortable with saying it out loud, as though he was afraid of something or avoiding it altogether. “It’s nothing too important; it’s probably nothing anyway. We should focus on getting to the miracle healer.” Ezran said uncharacteristically standoffish.

“Okay,” Francis said. “Speak to me once you’re more content on the matter. I’m always happy to listen.” Ezran managed a sweet smile, sweeter than his beloved jelly tarts. It made Francis insides melt to see so much innocent kindness exude from such a little kid. He couldn’t hold back a stupid lopsided grin on his face.

That grin didn’t last too long, when the princes led the team to Ava and Ellis, who were on the outskirts of the village. Francis’s face was overwhelmed with momentary confusion when he saw a little girl riding a huge wolf. He saw many things on his travels, but this was still a rather unusual sight. He didn’t question it however, instead noticing something dangling on the wolf.

“Meet Ellis and her totally friendly wolf, Ava!” Callum introduced, sunshine sparkling from his forced smile.

“Hi,” Ellis said in her chipper voice.

“Wolf, you don’t say,” Rayla said sarcastically, perhaps trying to break the ice. “I thought it was a bird.” Francis sighed. Ellis’s seemingly unbridled enthusiasm collided with Rayla’s uncompromisingly dry sarcastic humour, that was ought to produce an unbelievably terse mix. Francis sensed earlier that Rayla wasn’t totally comfortable with not being the most informed person in the team and she certainly was still a Moonshadow elf, trusting such a small young girl on a journey up a dangerous mountain was never going to come easy. It shouldn’t take long, maybe she could put up with it. Francis also was convinced that the boys didn’t think too far through this plan and that they didn’t realise that there were two rather obvious obstacles: Rayla and him. Sweet-talking was definitely on the menu, coming right up… besides he couldn’t hold back his giddiness anymore.

“Oh, look at this big little girl,” Francis spoke softly, as he calmly approached Ava, supervised by bewildered stares from the rest of his team. Francis hugged Ava, who happily licked his face, as he playfully scratched her ears. “You good, soft little girl. So cute and adorable!” It has been four years since he saw his pet, it flooded back some great memories. Francis pulled back a little, so that his nose barely touched Ava’s. Francis’s adoring eyes flicked up and down from Ava’s eyes to her neck, as he scratched her there.

“It’s…” Ellis began.

“…an elf, Rayla,” Francis cut her off, sounding earnest and looking up at Ellis now. “She’s brave and saved us on more than one occasion. She is kind and you can trust her, those stories…”

“No, it’s you! It really is you! That guy,” Ellis said a little too loudly.

“Sssh!” Francis put his finger to his mouth, along with the rest of his team that shushed her. Francis did feel relieved that she seemed to not care about the fact that Rayla was an elf, hate wasn’t drilled into her for now. “Do you want to tip off the entire village?” Francis then suddenly felt exasperated. “Why do humans lack originality? I’m honestly sick to death with the amount of times I hear He, That guy, The prodigy… Please just call me…”

“Stool-man!” Ellis beamed and Francis could hear the poorly suppressed snorts, wheezes and giggles behind his back.

“I’ve got to give credit where credit is due,” Francis admitted, unshaken by her amusing remark. In retrospect, he could probably laugh at it in private, but a line needed to be drawn. “That is the first time someone called me that, but it is also the last time. Otherwise I will confiscate Ava from you, understood?”

“Good luck with that!” Ellis said mockingly. Francis didn’t pay much attention to her smug grin.

“Please just call me Francis,” he said politely, then once she nodded, Francis turned back to his team. “Callum and Ezran, good work! I knew you could do it!” Callum sheepishly scratched the back of his neck, a little caught out by the compliment.

“Oh, uh…” he stammered.

“High fours all round!” Francis chimed, bending his pinkie to only produce four fingers. Ezran was happy to indulge and so was Rayla after a noticeable eye-roll, but Callum was a little slow and felt awkward. Francis stood there with his hand up for a while…

“You never leave a man hanging,” Francis remarked. “And also you never high five or four yourself, so it has to go somewhere…” Francis lightly slapped Callum on the face and the rest of the group suppressed a smile. “I just demonstrated what I do in that scenario, now,” Callum scratched his assaulted cheek, seeming to have seen a funny side to it. “I don’t usually give out second chances, but you are not everyone else and you should definitely feel special right now.” Callum was taken aback by such kind words. It was Francis after all, there was a lot to look up to him. Callum hit Francis’s hand confidently and Francis rewarded him with an encouraging smile. He turned around to face the rising caldera before him.

“Well, glad I feel part of it,” Ellis said jealously.

“Thank you for helping us and taking this so well,” Francis said. “But I wouldn’t want to spoil you so early.”

“Wow, you would allow me?” Excitement surfaced on Ellis’s face and Ava wagged her tail.

“I do reward those who work hard. I only ask for everyone to do their very best,” Francis hinted. Ellis seemed to grow brighter than the midday sun. “Now we have to check out why this caldera so cursed.” Francis said a little too cheery.

“Um,” Rayla said, concerned by his optimism, but Francis didn’t hear her. He stood with his back straight in front of the caldera, facing it head on. A sly smile swept across his face.

“Only way is up and above!” Francis proclaimed and with huge strides went straight towards The Cursed Caldera. The rest were left stunned. Did he even remember that Ellis and Ava were supposed to lead the way?


	9. An Uphill Struggle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team had only one chance to save the dying egg. They had to climb up the Cursed Caldera and night time was quickly approaching them. What kind of monstrosities would they have to face on the way to the top? And was there something else outside the Caldera that was closing in on them?

It was a tough climb, but no monsters were in sight and in reality Callum forgot about them. Everything was calm and quiet… too quiet. It was certainly relieving that nothing had happened, but Callum couldn’t explain why he felt odd. It was so deadly quiet that his senses felt heightened, as he was able to carefully listen and watch for anything that made him feel so odd, but alas to no avail. Since his sense of sight was undisturbed by any distracting noises, he decided to take in his surroundings and find an inspiration to draw something. It would perhaps distract him from this odd feeling he had.

Callum quickly scanned in his head what he had already drawn: landscapes, forest, loads of Ezran, Rayla and Francis… and then Callum realised, he was yet to draw their team being together. He remembered what Francis told him about expressing oneself. He struggled with it in real life, but somehow Callum found faith that it would be much easier on paper, which didn’t have to be seen by anyone other than him. He could try and experiment to his heart’s content. Perhaps he could draw them trudging up this high mountain, spear-heading against the wind. He fantasised about what any of the elements could mean, what could they stand for?

Once Callum made his mind up, he stepped a little to the side and looked at his friends. He saw Ezran’s little, but brave steps and innocent hopeful eyes. He clumsily trudged behind them, whilst gently and protectively holding Bait and carrying the fading egg. Then Callum looked at Rayla, her steely expression looking steadfast ahead, her pointy ears at attention. Callum regarded Rayla’s silvery white hair, which usually under the light glowed as brightly as the moon did at night. The sunlight was fading, which allowed her bright violet eyes to stand out, as he considered how much faith those eyes showed in her companions. The eyes sometimes flickered and faltered, he noted, perhaps she was unsure about something or maybe it was the only giveaway of how much her darkening arm hurt her. He observed her motions, which were concise and disciplined. It was impossible to not recognise that she was a warrior and underwent military training. She was strong, but Callum saw how soft her edges were, her shoulders and waist. Her knees, jaw and elbows weren’t as sharp as the ones he saw on other elf, the one that named himself Runnan. Rayla’s horns smoothly curved, just like her purple markings underneath her eyes. Callum for a moment considered if she was much more soft hearted and warmer than her kind usually were, but he didn’t have much to go on.

Callum moved onto Francis, who was still in the lead despite the fact that only Ellis and Ava knew the way. His green cape danced up against the little breeze, but remained largely unmoved, like Francis was. A hero who was humble, modest and thankful. He always strived to be better even if he was perfect in Callum’s eyes, always staying ahead just like he was now, setting the bar for others. His shoulders were wide and his back straight, carrying the world on them and bearing the full brunt of it. He carried them with his wisdom, experience, the jovial laughter and impossibly to ignore voice, sometimes soft and caring and sometimes commanding and earnest.

Callum then realised that the odd feeling was coming off of Francis. He was quiet… no… he was silent. Callum inspected him more carefully. He stared dead ahead, unfaltering dedication to the climb, yet Callum noticed how Francis’s eyes occasionally flicked to Rayla. Callum knew that he always checked up on his companions making sure they were doing well and not falling behind, but right now it seemed more than usual. For starters Francis didn’t look at the rest of them when he glanced at Rayla and it also seemed to happen more frequently than yesterday. He seemed to look at Ezran sometimes, as well, but not as much as he was at Rayla. Callum seemed to get the least of his attention and he wasn’t exactly sure why. However upon closer inspection, Callum saw that Francis almost snapped out of something before looking at them. He glanced with a furrowed eyebrow and it almost felt like he was waiting for a signal, his looks were subliminal. Whenever he checked up on all three of them, his glances were more careful and always lingered… and then he went back to looking dead ahead. He was quiet and focused, determined over succeeding in whatever was his goal right now. Was that goal solely saving the egg or was there something else?

It was clear that Francis seemed to be somewhere else at the moment. Callum wondered what he was thinking. It was known that Francis was thorough with his thought process, but he also tended to think a lot, sometimes even aloud. He admitted as much that occasionally his mind glides to a world other that their own. He said it was sometimes to relax and sometimes a mental exercise if his brain felt like it hadn’t worked enough for the day. Callum did notice how fervently he read when the rest went to sleep. In fact, Callum hadn’t seen Francis sleeping, he was still wide awake when the rest of the team went to sleep and he was already done with his morning chores and exercises whenever any of them woke up.

It was really unusual to see Francis being so quiet, it was the complete opposite of how the past interactions went by. He usually kept the conversation going, always getting all three of them involved and was pretty much the soul of their dry sarcastic humour, along with Rayla of course. Right now however, ever since they started rising up the caldera that didn’t seem to be the case. The conversations were now kept up by Ellis.

“So how did you all meet?”

“Well,” Callum started. “That is a very interesting story. A few days ago in the castle…” he trailed off. It was then he realised how they actually met. It felt crazy how drastically things had changed. Callum nervously scratched the back of his neck. “She broke in to kill my brother, Ezran…” he tried to sound normal about it, but didn’t know how to continue, elongating the pause. Rayla gave a nervous smile to Ellis, who looked at her with concern.

“But it doesn’t matter now.” Ezran swooped in, saving his brother. “We’re past that now.”

“And what about…?” Ellis trailed off, noticing how far off Francis was in the pits of his mind.

“Followed them from Katolis,” Francis sounded blank, clearly this interaction was a distraction from his thought process. “Then joined them when I saw how noble their cause was.” Ellis got the hint that perhaps she shouldn’t press on and should just let Francis do his thing… whatever it was.

“People meet in so many interesting ways!” Ellis remarked, eyeing Rayla with a calmer notion. Francis suddenly halted… and so did everyone else in response.

“Where is the miracle healer again?” He asked.

“She found us up at the top of the caldera.” Ellis pointed upwards towards the rim of the mountain.

“Then we’ll need to get straight up there.” Rayla said determined, despite the fact that she couldn’t believe that a miracle healer that randomly showed up in a tree two years ago was all they had to go on. She would have voiced her concern, but then again, she nor anyone else had better ideas.

“Even if it takes all night.” Callum added in support.

“What’s the way around?” Francis shocked the group, then they finally noticed what the issue was. Callum thanked the world, that Francis was paying attention in that moment. He stood not too far off a cliff edge. It clearly used to be a path, as there was another edge on the other side that looked like an end of a collapse.

“Oh, I guess some things did change over the past two years,” Ellis chuckled lightly and pointed to a separate path that curved way around the entire cliff edge. “That should put us back on track.”

“No,” Francis said sharply. “It’s too long. The only way is forward!”

“What? How?” All four of the companions said at the same time, Bait even gave a surprised croak himself. It wasn’t an easy jump, the cliff located a little far and above of a typical human jump. Francis took a few steps back.

“You just got to get a run-up.” Francis said, looking adamant.

The group tried to get him to reconsider, but he wasn’t listening. He ran straight at the edge and sore through the air. The jump wasn’t as light or elegant as Rayla’s jumping was, but the way he did it was distinctly Francis. He didn’t question, he didn’t complain, he didn’t whine, he just did… despite it all. Francis managed to reach the cliff, but he didn’t fix himself at the top of it. He slipped… and Francis yelped. The world slowed down for the group and maybe even Francis, but if the group were frozen, then Francis was still thinking quickly. He reached for his sword and sunk it straight into the cliffside, managing to hang on with one hand. The whole group in synchrony breathed a great sigh of relief, as Francis dangled, looking down beneath him.

“Yep, can confirm, it’s a long way down.” Francis gave a nervous smile.

“You are one crazy human.” Rayla scolded.

“Still not mad.” Francis said light-heartedly, lifting himself up. He repositioned his sword and held himself at incline, one hand holding his sword tightly, the other reaching out towards the rest. He would help them across, holding them with all of his might. Ezran went first followed by Callum then Rayla. Ava and Ellis thankfully didn’t need Francis’s help, as Ava easily made the jump with Ellis on her back.

* * *

The sun was setting. There were a few rough spots and steep hills, but nothing as extreme as Francis’s bold jump. The team helped each other and made this climb easier. Callum felt relaxed, but physically strained. Ava and Ellis rode out a little ahead as the sun slowly left the sky for its slumber.

“It’s beautiful,” Ellis spoke. “It’s like the sky is painted with honey.” The team fixated on the view. Callum noticed Ezran gawk. He also spotted a hint of a smile on Francis. It was a great way to make them take a breather and let the moment of the beautiful landscape fill them. Callum thanked his very good memory and the ability he had to memorise such views in mere seconds. He completely forgot about the monsters that supposedly roamed this place, but he was soon reminded of them, as Ava thoughtlessly added. “Too bad it also means that the nightmares are about to begin.”

“What do you mean?” Rayla stammered.

“Oh, you know, enormous monsters and indescribable terrors… stuff like that.” Clearly Callum wasn’t the only one who forgot about the monsters, as the team stood frozen staring wide-eyed at Ellis… well, everyone except from Francis who began to follow Ellis and Ava.

“Sounds exciting.” Francis said nonchalantly, rubbing his hands together, clearly shrugging any fear it produced inside him, if it even did.

“Stuff like that,” Callum repeated.

“Oh, it will get worse.” Ellis said like there was nothing wrong, brutally reminding them of the dangers that were still ahead in an optimistic way. “The higher we go, the worse it will get.” Callum wanted to gauge Francis’s reaction, but he remained as calm as he was when they started. He wondered if Francis feared anything in his life, though he did notice how his eyes narrowed and his brows furrowed.

“All right! Well, let’s go.” Rayla seemed sarcastically optimistic.

“That’s the spirit and optimism I was looking from you.” Francis said honestly. “It’s a shame you’re feigning it.”

“No, wait,” Callum said earnestly, looking for an excuse to delay them. “We need a plan!”

“How do you plan for indescribable terrors?” Ezran posed a good point.

“You don’t, you simply can’t.” Francis said and Callum deflated, thinking he was shutting down his idea. “But planning is always good. Having a rough idea would be something, which is better than going in blindly, having nothing.” Callum felt winds blow in his sails, there was his chance to show what he could come up with. “Although, you saw them, Ellis…” Francis pointed out, correcting himself. “So we aren’t technically going in completely blind.”

“The monsters are horrifying!” Ellis said with her natural optimism, adding more and more unhelpful epithets. “Enormous, vicious, blood-curdling… creepy, but in a super extreme over the top way, that feels like it’s lighting your soul on fire!” She patted Ava’s neck. Her speech didn’t really add any confidence to anyone and Francis seemed to be disappointed.

“Wait, I’ve got it!” Callum jumped and grinned. Francis clasped his hands together, while the rest looked concerned that Callum actually took things seriously, there wasn’t a lot of faith from them. “Flash! Woof! Whoosh! Slish-slash times two!” Callum animated each word, then excitedly looked for a reaction from his friends, but he was mostly met with blank, confusing and unimpressed stares.

“Awesome!” Ellis shouted out to him, then looked at Rayla and Francis. “Um, is he ok?”

“I don’t know, I think he might’ve finally cracked under the pressure.” Rayla teased.

“He is definitely fine,” Francis frowned at Rayla. “But I don’t know what any of that meant, let’s just hear him out.” Francis could see the brimming excitement in Callum’s face and body.

“Ezran’s first up, you hold Bait up, blinding whatever monster attacks us – flash!”

“Wait…” Ezran objected. “But then I’m not really doing anything. I’m just holding Bait up.”

“You’re support! Every team needs a good support.” Callum reassured his brother. “Besides, you get the honours of initialising the move.” Ezran beamed, seemingly satisfied with Callum’s answer. “Ellis, you’re up next, you and Ava run around the monster while barking, confusing and disorienting it – woof!”

“I don’t know,” Ellis pondered, then looked at Ava. “Can you run around and bark a lot?” Ava barked in response. “She’s ready.”

“Then me, I’ll use my wind-breath spell – whoosh!”

“You’re going to cast a spell?” Ellis gasped and perked up.

“Uh, it’s just a simple rune thing I picked up.” Callum twiddled his fingers. “No big deal.”

“Yeah, he’s going to blow on the monster.” Rayla jested. “Ruffle its fur real good.”

“Well, it’s either that or the half of the lightning spell I know, specifically the one that doesn’t shoot lightning out of my hands.” Callum pointed out that his options were very limited.

“Yeah,” Ezran said. “The monster won’t know what hit it… oh wait, it will. It’ll be wind.”

Callum stood there unimpressed and humiliated. Rayla gave out a booming laugh, louder than usual just to rub more salt into Callum’s wounded pride, which reminded Callum of the last step of his plan. “Rayla and Francis! You’re the last two, the finishers! You’ll take down the blinded, distracted, wind-blown monster with your blades – Slish-slash times two!”

“My hand is in pretty bad shape,” Rayla said. “I’ll only be able to use one hand.”

“Okay, then you’re just slash.”

“No way, that won’t work,” Rayla said looking seriously. “This is my slish hand!”

“Oh, really?” Callum asked, then noticed a mocking smile surface on Rayla’s face. She was playing with him. He heard Ezran chuckle.

“No, not really, dummy!” Rayla said, but then her eyes widened, as she realised something. “Wait, Callum you may be a dummy, but you’re not a fool!” She approached Callum, putting both of her hands on his shoulders. She got the solution.

“Am I supposed to feel flattered? Is that a Moonshadow way of complimenting me?” Callum asked.

“That is flattery, borderline slander!” Francis said jokingly. “I’ve learnt so much and even I’m still a fool! So yeah, Callum, I’d run all the way to the bank with that compliment, especially from Rayla, who isn’t particularly charitable with her words and compliments!” Francis couldn’t let Callum be the only one teased by the entire group, but Rayla was too excited and didn’t hear Francis’s remark.

“You said Claudia called you a fool, when you interrupted her lightning spell? I’ll bet she was actually trying to say _fulminis_.” Rayla gleamed. “It’s the draconic word for lightning.” Callum heard Francis snap his fingers and nod in agreement. Callum felt like he had grown wings. He now knew a new, far more effective spell during a fight.

“Revised plan! Flash! Woof! Zap! Slash!” Callum jumped up and down, but he was again met with unimpressed stares. Rayla gave an exasperated sigh, not making any additional comments on the matter. Everyone moved on… except for Francis, who surprisingly stayed with him.

“Yeah, you need to work on your presentation skills,” Francis said intently. “Starting with how you name things… especially if you want to keep your audience captivated. Besides, I’m pretty sure ‘slish-slash squared’ sounds much better.” He winked at him, before continuing in an encouraging manner. “That wasn’t a bad plan for the first time, in fact that is a very decent plan.” Was Callum hearing that correctly? Did a well-known and respected rising strategist and tactician just said his plan was very decent? Callum thought he had grown taller after that compliment and Francis must have noticed that Callum looked a little taken aback. “It’s good because it utilises all of our strengths to our advantage and since it’s not a full-fledged plan, it’s flexible and adaptable to most indescribable monsters. Luckily for us improvising and acting is one of my strengths, so I’ll be responsible for creativity and short-term responses.” Francis then gave a kind and reassuring smile and Callum thought he would overdose from happiness. “By the way, I can do the slish, so you can keep the slish-slash part in your plan name, just keep it to yourself and work on a more presentable public name.” Callum would’ve been too stunned to catch up to his friends, but thankfully Francis put a hand around his shoulders and walked with him like that for a little bit. Callum, maybe even Francis too, definitely noticed a spring in his step.

* * *

Light fog settled on their travels and Ezran held out the glowing Bait to keep their vision somewhat clear. Francis’s mind was not at rest. Unlike him, Rayla wasn’t suspicious of the moonstone collar around Ava’s neck. It was clearly of Moonshadow origin, was it not? Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him, surely Rayla would’ve caught on? Perhaps she was too focused on saving the egg? Maybe it really was nothing? Ezran also seemed to be not his usual self and still looked like there was something off that he still wasn’t comfortable with telling. Another thing that did not give him rest was the odd detail that Ellis dropped when she said the monsters got worse the higher they went. Was there something they were protecting? A million things, suggestions and ideas raced in Francis’s mind, but he had to stop himself. He could go mad at this rate and right now he really needed to pay closer attention to any upcoming monsters.

“You really should take Ezran’s backpack, the primal stone is in it, so you should keep it next to you.” Francis pointed out to Callum. The egg was a pretty heavy load for the princes, so they always swapped it between each other, with Francis occasionally lifting Ezran on his shoulders. However with a potential fight on their hands, Francis preferred if Ezran stayed out of the way, surrounded by those who could fight.

Francis tuned back in just in time to hear some very poor and tasteless jokes and puns from the kids, followed by very fitting cricket noises. A cricket… really? They were getting distracted by and joking over a cricket? He sighed. Those kids were goners without him and with him he felt like he could lose some brain cells, so he had to tell them off. Francis’s standards for others even applied to their humour and the bottom line was drawn.

Francis changed the subject of their conversation, making the team more focused. “It’s too quiet.”

“Yeah, it is a little odd that nothing bad has happened…” Ellis said, but her eyes widened. “Look, a giant scary monster!” Francis heard Rayla reach for her sword and the princes jump, but he just sighed and disapprovingly lowered his head.

“Relax, everyone…”

“It’s dead.” Ellis finished the sentence for Francis.

“Then why did you say it like that?” Callum asked, bewildered.

“Say it like what?” Ellis returned innocently.

The team reluctantly approached the dead monster. In the middle of its stomach was a huge circular hole. “I’ve never seen anything like this,” Ezran said. “What a strange circular birthmark…”

“I don’t think that’s a birthmark, Ez,” Callum said gravely. “That’s a bitemark!”

“You’re right,” Rayla said. “Something has drained all its blood”

“Doesn’t that mean there is a huger scarier monster out here?” Ezran shook a little. That wasn’t the worst part, as Francis carefully inspected the bitemark… it was still fresh. Francis backed away and drew his sword carefully inspecting his surroundings.

“Perhaps, but maybe it’s far away.” Francis responded. “We should be fine.”

“Erm… why did you take your sword out then?” Ezran asked. That kind of defeated the purpose of making sure his friends remained composed, didn’t it?

“It calms me down.” Francis admitted.

“Guys, I see a huger scarier monster!” Ellis pointed behind the corpse to reveal a giant twenty foot leech slithering over the top. The massive beast beneath it clearly didn’t suffice its appetite. Francis remained standing where he was while the rest of his team retreated. It bought them some time to regroup, besides Francis didn’t see the leech’s eyes. Maybe the trick was to not make any sudden movements? It looked quite thick skinned on the top, maybe going for its belly was the right solution?

“Time for the plan! Ezran!” Francis heard Callum shout.

“Where’s Bait?” Ezran panicked… great this wasn’t an ideal start. “Bait you’re supposed to…” a blinding flash followed too soon and Francis was glad he was still facing the monster. His companions weren’t as lucky. The leech didn’t seem as interested in Francis as it went for his blinded friends… so it did have eyes? Where?

“Hey, big guy, let’s dance! I have all the helpful and nutritious muscles and loads of meat! You should definitely go for me!” The monster ignored him, despite Francis’s best efforts to get it to focus on him. Why was Francis always left as the last meal?

“I probably shouldn’t do lightning if I can’t see?” Callum thought out loud, his head in his hands, unaware of the approaching doom. Francis ran towards him.

“Don’t do the lightning!” Rayla shouted, covering her eyes. She wasn’t too far behind Callum. Francis would’ve said something about the monster maybe preferring its dinner fried, but right now wasn’t the time for jokes.

“Callum, look out!” Francis dove spectacularly and got Callum out of the way. All Callum heard was the clasping of the monster’s jaw whoosh past him. It was just in time, but Francis didn’t get a break as the creature continued slithering behind them onto a new target. Francis had only one thing he could do… and she had only one chance.

“Rayla! Duck to your left, now!” Francis’s scream ripped his throat. He hoped. It was out of his hands. Rayla ducked. Phew, he was so relieved that none of them got eaten. Two way too close calls.

“Maybe a new plan?” Ezran asked, sight seemed to return to his eyes.

“Run! Scatter!” Callum shouted.

“Is that to distract the monster?” Ezran asked.

“No, it’s to get away and live!” Callum responded. Francis saw Callum hop on Ava’s back, as they headed towards the safety of the cliffs nearby. The monster went after them, which gave him, Rayla and Ezran some time to find safety somewhere else. He followed Rayla and Ezran who ran towards a tall dead tree.

“Can you climb trees?” It was a rhetorical question from Rayla. Ezran nodded and began his ascent.

“It’s coming back Rayla, go! I’ve got your back.” Francis yelled.

“Are you…?”

“Just climb already!”

Rayla reluctantly climbed while Francis ran out towards the giant leech. This time, the leech was happy to focus on him. It made precise strikes where he stood, making Francis jump, dive or step out of the way. The leech was reluctant to show its front, so Francis tried to cut up its back. Oh no, it only made it angrier, as it lunged for a bite and this time managed to catch Francis’s cape. Francis was not giving up his grandfather’s cape and punched the leech in the side of its face. It got the message, as it let go, but it was still determined to get Francis, as it circled around him.

“You’re going to kill yourself, you dumb human! Get up here already!” Rayla shouted from the top of the tree. Francis could probably take this thing down on its own, but that would take a very long time. Besides it would defeat the purpose of Callum’s plan; they had to do it together. Francis couldn’t constantly carry them, what if he got injured or things were out of his hands again? They needed to be able to rely on themselves and others just as much as they seemed to rely on him.

“Rayla! I need your swords!” Francis sheathed his own away. Rayla tossed both of them down to Francis and he caught them with a great degree of suave. He flung them above him, rotating the blades into picks and they landed back perfectly in his palms. Francis jumped out of the way towards the tree and quickly began to scale it. Something for once, matched Francis’s resolute nature, as the leech fiercely struck at the tree, making Francis jump sideways to make sure he wasn’t an appetiser for today’s menu. It prevented him from climbing further up and make progress. Francis hated gambling, but he wasn’t making any progress otherwise. He eyed up the monster as its teeth came down towards him… but Francis didn’t jump. Instead, he pulled out of the picks allowing him to swing sideways and hang on. Francis’s whole body clenched as the teeth and the awful smell of death went by him. Francis swung with his free pick at the monster, kicking it for good measure, as well as getting a little boost to his climb. He was now out of its reach as it growled and roared in frustration.

“Phew,” Francis breathed out when he reached Rayla and Ezran, who looked like they felt Francis’s strain during the fight. “That was a good exercise! It got close at one point. Did he give me a haircut?” Francis felt the side of his head; his mess was still intact.

“You still manage to joke about this! You’re going to kill yourself one day!” Rayla frowned, although she couldn’t deny his bravery… or a certain kind of selfless sense to his actions.

“There is not enough time to look at everything negatively; you’ve got to always try to look at the bright side and find positives. We’ll all die at some point.” Francis said casually. Rayla didn’t feel like engaging in a debate with him. He then politely added, handing her swords over. “Thanks for the swords!”

“Well, what do we do?” She asked loudly, so that Ellis, Callum and Ava could maybe hear her now.

“I think that thing is waiting for us down there!” Callum called out, pointing to the leech that orbited around the tree.

“Callum, you may be a prince, but you’re a king at pointing out the obvious.” Francis mocked lightly.

“We don’t even have that much blood!” Ezran said.

“I know,” Rayla backed Ezran, then looked down at the leech and shouted at it. “We would be a very unsatisfying snack!” The leech roared at her and Rayla’s shoulders sagged. They would still be something, which is better than nothing. It was simple mathematics.

“We’ll just have to wait it out!” Callum called out to them.

“Well, we don’t have a choice.” Francis pointed out.

“I’m sorry my plan was a mess!” Callum said slouching down.

“Nah, your plan was fine!” Rayla said before Francis could. It surprised him that for once she wasn’t teasing him. “Our execution was a little off,” emphasis on ‘a little’. “It came out more like ‘Argh! Oops! Help! Run!’” Rayla mockingly animated those sounds just like Callum did earlier. It managed to get a smile out of Francis. Someone was rubbing off on her. Callum didn’t look particularly impressed, perhaps it managed to deliver Francis’s point of how ridiculous it looked. Francis sat down and got his ‘Cultures and Traditions of Xadia’ book out and was immediately consumed in his search in an instant.

* * *

Soren stood idly around yawning and following his sister Claudia. Wherever her mind drifted he would have to follow her. It lead them to a base of a large cliff with late-spring moss, vines and grass bristling in its side. She was searching for something along the rock’s face. She came up with this tracking spell of hers that required something personal from the princes, but instead they found a hair braid stuck to the tree by an arrow back at the Banther Lodge. There was a very good chance it used to belong to the elf who kept them captive.

In terms of magic, Claudia was in a league of her own, but frankly, Soren never found any sort of magic interesting. He felt it was too unpredictable and took away from a real fight, the physicality of it. To him magic felt like a cheat, something that didn’t belong, that was wrong in a fight… and right now he felt wrong. He had this nagging feeling down in the deep depths of his stomach. Why did he have to spot that stupid elven braid? The dogs failed to track the princes, he and Claudia could have come back to their father and said that there was nothing they could do. But not only did Claudia’s head went off trying to figure a way out, forgetting where they were at one point, he couldn’t bear to fail his father. He wanted Viren to be proud of him, to accept him. He thought becoming Crown Guard would be enough, but it wasn’t. Entrusting him with the task surely would… but at what cost? At the expense of his two friends! Even if he called them step-prince and crownrunt, they were still his close, probably even best friends.

_Make your father proud!_

_By taking the princes’ lives?_

_For once… don’t disappoint him!!_

_By becoming a child murderer??_

_He knows what he’s doing!!!_

_Does he even know what it feels like to take a child’s life???_

“So… what are we doing here?” Soren asked for a millionth time, escaping his thoughts.

“I just need one more thing for the tracking spell.” Claudia kept answering.

“And then you get to do that thing which turns your eyes purple?”

“And then I get to do that thing which turns my eyes purple,” Claudia repeated. “And then black.”

“So what do you need? Magic twig? Magic rock? Magic… whatever?”

Claudia didn’t respond. She went along the base of the cliff and pulled apart a bush, revealing a narrow gap. “Here it is!” She called Soren over. Her parents showed her this narrow cave and while her mother showed her an aesthetic side of this place, her father showed a far more practical use for it.

Soren was glad he could finally do something, but his face fell when he saw the entrance. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope, this way!” Claudia put down Callum’s backpack that she insisted on taking with her on their mission and slipped through the gap. Soren followed and scraped through the entrance, which continued to remain narrow.

“If only… I weren’t… so muscular,” he grunted.

To his annoyance, the corridor was just as narrow as the entrance. Soren would hate this even more if it went dark, but thankfully Claudia had her magic hand lighting the way. Soren remembered something about excess Dark Magic coming off of the mages like a residue, allowing some very simple spells to be conjured up without ingredients or chanting. He didn’t really care back then, but right now it was the only thing that made his currently squished state manageable.

“This is why I hate magic, it always involves something really creepy.” He used his hands to steady himself along the damp narrow walls, only to get it covered in something sticky. “This is so gross.”

Claudia seemed to ignore him, frantically pointing at every cave crevasse. “Where is it?” She kept muttering, getting more and more frustrated with each second. Her parents knew the secret place so well, they could practically find it in the dark. “Wait!” She closed her hand, snuffing the light out of it.

“What are you doing?” Soren asked, slightly panicked.

“Shush.”

“Oh, can you see better if I’m quiet?”

“Just give it a moment.” Claudia smacked him lightly on the shoulder. Soren decided to oblige and after spending an uncomfortably long time cramped together in total darkness, a light seemed to shine out of one of the crevasses. “Look!” She clapped her hands together. “I knew it – you can only see true light in absolute darkness!”

“Ugh, sounds like something that you recited from those books of yours.” Soren said, unimpressed.

“They are useful! They’re about to get us to help track the princes!” Claudia retorted.

“They’re only useful as extra weight by putting them in my knapsack when I climb the stairs or do push ups.” Soren flexed his muscles. Claudia grimaced in annoyance, as she led them through the gap.

Soren felt the obnoxious and suffocating rocks give into a breath-taking grotto. It would nearly resemble a glade, only inside a cave. Soft silver-blue grass rested languidly and closely to the ground. Beautifully woven trees stood with leaves like crystals that gradually varied between the shades of cerulean and viridian. A clear cooling stream ran calmly by on the side, almost beckoning the visitors to rest their worries and rest in it, with a promise to cleanse them. This breathtaking grotto was illuminated by these strange little buzzing balls of light that carelessly floated around.

“These are called wisps.” Claudia looked at Soren, whilst taking out an empty jar. “One might fly into your mouth if you’re not careful.” She chuckled, shutting Soren’s gaping jaw with her hands. She captured a few of the wisps with such easiness, like it was a nice summer stroll.

“So, what else do we need for this tracking spell of yours?” Soren asked.

“Nothing, we just need to climb up the tallest mountain in Katolis.” Claudia said.

“Mount Kalik? That’s what I’m talking about!” Soren was really excited for the upcoming challenge. “I guess you can also call it the Ka-tallest!” Soren melted a little inside when his sister burst out laughing, her growing laughter echoing in the grotto.

“Oh, that’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard,” that wasn’t really hard to tell. “Hey, what’s this?” Claudia scooped a tiny mud mound and showed it to him.

“I don’t know,” Soren said.

“It’s the Ka-shortest mountain.” Claudia laughed just as loudly at her own joke.

“Now, I’m not even sure you got the original joke.” Soren looked a little let down, then moved on. He was however instantly reminded that to get back out, he would have to take the journey along the same narrow gaps again. He looked a little more down at that realisation. He just wanted to move on.

* * *

The time moved by very slowly, as Rayla fiddled with her binding that hadn’t caused her pain in a while. Francis was in a different world with his book in hand and so no matching snarking comments and sarcastic humour was coming out of him. Even with Callum’s wry humour it was a little too easy sometimes to trick him, so Francis was a great challenge and he seemed to push her boundaries sometimes. She would love to challenge and be challenged by him, but now she was a little scared to do something wrong around him. That angry gaze and his bone rattling voice could easily haunt her in her nightmares and in fact pretty much any other nightmare that didn’t involve water absolutely paled in comparison to it. However maybe it was a one-off… okay, a two-off, although his anger on the lake didn’t really scare her as much as the one in that village. For now, knowing his devotion to protecting them, she was willing to look past it.

She looked at Ezran who had his head in his hands, looking blankly forward. “Ezran, are you okay?” She asked her voice full of concern.

“I’m so sorry I messed up the plan.” He replied, still not telling her the entire problem.

“Ah, you should cut yourself a break.” Rayla tried easing him a little, but her next words came out a bit too solemn. “Everyone messes up sometimes, but in my case all the time.”

“What are you talking about?” Ezran eye’s seemed to regain their focus, as he tilted his head in her direction.

“Trust me, if the plan wasn’t messed up when Bait flashed, it would’ve flopped when it was my turn.”

“Are you kidding? From what I can tell, you’re pretty awesome at everything.” Ezran said forgetting about what Francis warned him in regards to Moonshadow elves and compliments.

“Well, it’s true I’m pretty awesome at everything,” Rayla raised her chin, when she said that, but then her back hunched back down. “Right up until it really matters. That’s when I screw things up. I just… hesitate, think too much, get confused about the right thing to do and the next thing I know, I failed.”

“You say it as though that’s always a bad thing.” Francis joined the conversation, his head not lifting up from the book.

“How? Failing is bad.” Rayla said.

“It’s much worse when you don’t take anything out of it. If you want to be the best, you must go through your share of losses, shortcomings, mistakes, failures and poor choices.” Francis continued to look at the book.

“Not when it matters though,” Rayla retorted.

“Is this about Marcos?” Francis tore his sight from the book and looked at Rayla, who was caught out. It only partially was.

“It was my job to stop him, to kill him… but when I caught him, he looked up at me and his eyes… he was so afraid,” Rayla’s eyes widened like she was back there again. “I don’t know why I let him go.”

“You felt for him,” Ezran said softly.

“But that shouldn’t have mattered!” Rayla argued. “He was a human; my enemy!”

“It does matter.” Francis said earnestly. “I would be far more concerned if you felt absolutely nothing or even worse, good, about doing something as terrible as killing someone. It is when we stop treating others with respect and dignity and seeing them as animals, that we stop doing the same for ourselves, ultimately becoming the things we set to oppose.”

“None of that should’ve mattered.” Rayla sounded unconvincing however. “I still had a job to do!”

“Most leaders forget that jobs and tasks are still carried out be personas and characters.” Francis said. “It may not matter for the task, but some things may matter more for those who carry them out. It is not an uncommon thing for humans to experience compassion during their jobs.”

“Which is why you felt for him,” Ezran added. “You saw he was a person, just like you.” Rayla noticed Francis’s lips form a smile, he was certainly happy that Ezran could hold up such a conversation.

“Just be glad you’re not a cold mindless killing machine, Rayla, unlike some become or…” Francis’s face turned a little colder. Rayla tensed. “… or unlike some who are forced to become.”

Rayla felt hesitant to ask her next question. She wasn’t sure if it was too personal, but she mustered up the courage. “Have you ever killed anyone before?”

“No.” Francis said without a hint of hesitation. “As I said, it is wrong. It is a bad thing to do.”

“I don’t get it.” Rayla said. “It is not bad when it is justified.”

“Life is the most precious thing we all share.” Francis sounded a little sterner. “Nothing can justify an action of taking it away from anyone. It is wrong and you should remember that.”

“I’m an assassin,” Rayla replied almost automatically, not putting much thought into her words. “We don’t get to decide what’s right or wrong…”

“Yeah, yeah, only life and death, I’ve heard that many times before.” Francis cut her off, turning much more serious. “What you’re telling me right now, is called ignorance. Let me tell you something **,** you treat life and death as separate arbitrary parameters from good and bad, but in reality everything is interlinked. Both life and death can be good and bad, sometimes simultaneously. You keep telling yourself such things as ‘an assassin decides only life and death’ and so on, because you wholeheartedly believe that your cause is just and therefore will always be the only right course of action. It benefits you, but it also desensitises you. Just look at how easily it rolled off your tongue, despite what Ezran and I have said previously.” All of this almost felt like a slap in the face for Rayla, potentially a wakeup call to reality. She felt like it was an attack on her Moonshadow elf culture, but it scared her how compelling his argument was. Francis continued. “I’m curious what the family members must feel after their loved ones are assassinated. The whole reason you didn’t kill Marcos, is because you thought of that,” Rayla felt so exposed; he nailed it spot on. “You have no right to decide life or death, because you are not Gods. You, just like everyone who walks and breathes in this world, are fallible. If you believe in the cycle and the importance of life and death, then let it occur naturally; don’t interfere with it. Don’t take lives unnecessarily! In fact, try look at the bigger picture occasionally. If life was so precious to all of you, then why couldn’t Runnan call off the attack when he saw the egg and save the squad? Instead he sent them to their certain doom.”

Rayla felt stunned, she couldn’t find anything to argue against or rebuke his point. She tried to come up with a weak excuse. “We only interfere when someone else does. If someone kills unjustly, then the only way to restore that justice is to kill them.”

“That’s not going to solve anything, only make things worse. You give them an excuse to attack you again, creating a cycle!” Francis continued convincingly. His words sounded familiar, like she already heard them before from someone else. “What if you can’t see the reasoning behind it, but the person has a perfectly justifiable reason? You’re trying to work with asymmetric information here and form conjectures!” Francis took a deep breath, stopping himself. His rant was quite radical and a lot of things to handle for poor young Rayla, but it was a perspective she needed to learn or at least know about and consider. “Look, sometimes you just have to move on from things we thought were absolute and unbreakable truths. We sometimes have to adapt to the changing times and move on and leave some things behind. Things have to be questioned and be put in perspectives, because there is always another side to the coin. I’m afraid Rayla, that it’s not your job to kill people.”

“You do realise I’m an assassin!” Rayla said not fully sure why that sentence sounded so wrong to her now, until… “An assassin who hasn’t taken a life…”

“I’m sorry, Rayla.” Francis said looking back down into his book.

If she wasn’t an assassin then who was she? Was her entire culture wrong? Too many questions were thrown in by the discussion they just had, Rayla couldn’t believe it. No, it couldn’t be. Who would bring justice to people who killed without a good cause? Or was their way of killing back simply because the culprit aggravated them and went against their interests and needs? It benefitted them? Was she not being honourable by taking a heavy task of an a Moonshadow assassin? She felt split, she couldn’t give up everything she knew and she was taught… but maybe she didn’t have to give up everything.

“I’m pretty sure that’s a good thing.” Ezran broke the silence from behind Rayla, reminding her he was still there. She looked at him, as she began to slowly realise something. Her hand held her bound wrist. “And by the way, thanks for failing at your job. I’m glad to still be alive and get to meet you and Francis!” There was no way she couldn’t smile. It made her realise again that she, among with the rest of assassins, wanted to take a life of this special and kind child… for something he wasn’t responsible at all. If she had done the deed, she wouldn’t have met Francis or get to know Ezran nor Callum better. She would have missed out on so much fun and wouldn’t get to learn so much about humans. Even if she knew everything, she would have still chose not to kill Ezran.

Francis’s words began to make more and more sense to her, especially when she put them into context concerning Ezran. She wondered if there was still a way where she could justify her ways and make them right. Not everything about her culture was flawed! Francis did say it himself that sometimes you had to adapt, so maybe there was a different way of interpreting her culture. Not entirely the same way Francis portrayed it, but her own way.

“I’m glad you’re alive Ezran and that I got to meet you!” Rayla said sincerely. “Knowing you is definitely worth losing a hand for.”

“That is the weirdest, nicest thing anyone has said to me.” Ezran looked a little uncomfortable at the thought of Rayla losing her hand.

“Well, who knows, maybe this is my unlucky hand.” Rayla tried to lighten the mood. “So when it falls off, my luck will change!”

“That’s horrible!” Ezran said.

“Funny, though?”

“Funny and horrible.” Ezran conceded.

“I got it!” Francis’s voice made everyone jump, including Callum, Ellis and Ava on the opposite side. “… also I find it that you usually work for your luck.” Francis pointed out a couple of seconds late to the conversation.

“Okay, would you mind not making us fall back down the tree using your sharp voice, please?” Rayla remarked. She wondered what was Francis so excited about until she noticed his gleeful and buoyant eyes peer up and down from her eyes to her hand. “You really are unbearably tenacious and persistent. Do you even know what the word ‘stop’ means?”

“Nope!” He said cheerily. To be fair, Rayla wouldn’t have Francis any other way, even if it was annoying sometimes. Callum and Ezran were nothing like the humans she was taught about and so was Francis. He was the complete opposite of how a typical human warrior was portrayed to her. He was brave, noble, funny and surprisingly very clever… and had ungodly levels of determination.

“Ugh, I told you that the egg is more important, it’s what matters!” Rayla tried to weakly resist. Francis scooped up closer to show her the book, Ezran curiously peaked over as well.

“I don’t care what you said about yourself in relation to that egg, everyone else matters just as much! I said that it was not fair for you to pay the price and we need to find a way to correct it. We’ve got a chance!” Rayla could feel his excitement overflowing from his body. She was amazed how much life and energy Francis seemed to possess sometimes. It was hard not to give in to it, let alone ignore it.

She read the book he was practically shoving into her hands with excitement. It was a passage about the assassin’s binding ritual. Everything seemed normal and as expected: ancient ritual, bound to specific targets, it fell of when the designated person died, blah blah blah. Why was he so excited? It clearly read that there were only two ways to get the binding off… but then her eyes widened as the heavily suppressed feeling of hope breached her inner walls.

“However, there is potentially a third way,” Rayla read out loud, unable to slow her reading down. “It is believed that the bindings can be taken off either by the person who hired the assassins or someone who shares blood with him.”

“Who ordered the assassination?” Francis asked.

“The Dragon Queen, Zubeia.”

“As I thought. Keep reading!” Francis urged, pushing her shoulder, like it was the one doing the work.

“The binding senses the motivations of its wearer,” Rayla continued. “Therefore the cause of unbinding must be just and well-intentioned, in order for the binding to accept its own undoing.”

“Which is why your arm is still only purple and not hanging by a thread,” Francis said triumphantly, not painting a nice picture for the traumatised Ezran. Rayla’s ears dropped when she read to the end.

“There are however no recorded cases of this procedure taking place, as a result questioning its validity.” She handed the book back to him, pulling her leg closer to her chest and wrapping her hands around it. “Great, so this might not even be true.” Her voice was damp.

“It’s chance and one that exists, that’s what matters! Clearly the sentient binding that senses your motivations part is true.” Francis persuaded her. “It could work and you’ll be fine!”

“Knowing my luck, it won’t work.” Rayla said pessimistically.

“And knowing my luck, it will.” Francis said assertively, then continued a little more light-heartedly. “If it won’t work, I’ll just stitch it back in place!”

“You can sew?” Rayla asked.

“I’m a man of many talents, I had to patch up my clothes a few times before. Skin can’t be too difficult.” Francis said nonchalantly.

“Ew, gross.” Rayla and Ezran said at the same time.

“Which is why for your sake, you better hope that this works.” Francis concluded. Rayla simply shrugged her shoulders. She would try, but it would be much better if she knew that the egg was going to live.

* * *

Meanwhile, on the rock, Callum, Ellis and Ava waited for the monster to go away. It wasn’t hard to pass time for either Ellis or Callum as they chose to pet Ava. She was a cute big wolf. Callum would also sketch to prepare for his drawing he wanted to do of them travelling together, but it was a little hard to focus. He was fully aware of the load they were carrying and he would occasionally cast a concerning look at the egg in the backpack, as it dimmed and flickered. It was still hanging on, but time was running out and he really wished that the monster would go away right about now. Callum tried to look for the monster, but it was a little too foggy to see anything clearly. He could only hear the roaring growls beneath him.

“I can’t believe you can do magic.” Ellis said, bringing his attention back to her. “I’ve never met a mage before, but I wasn’t expecting it to be anything like you.”

“Oh,” Callum hesitated to maintain eye-contact. “What were you expecting?”

“Someone taller, wrinklier, with long robes and a weird looking amulet.” Ellis said. “… and also super smart.” Callum managed a chuckle in response. He was a little relieved that she didn’t really have a problem with _him_. Although he couldn’t quite shake a feeling of underwhelming tone in her voice, but perhaps he was reading into it a little too much.

“I mean, I’m in the market for any of those things.” He said dryly.

“Oh, and you’re so confident.” Ellis pointed out.

Callum tried his best to hide his dismissive shrug, as he looked knowingly at the bag. “It’s sounds a little funny to hear someone say that about me.” He spoke profoundly. “I’ve never seen myself as that.”

“You’ve such incredible power and it’s your responsibility to wield it responsibly.” Ellis objected. “You should feel confident, you’re gifted.”

“Maybe,” Callum pondered. “But the truth is, none of it is me.” Callum went into the bag and produced the Primal Stone, showing it to Ellis. “All of it comes from this.”

“A little ball with cool flashy lightning?” Ellis asked with dissatisfaction in her voice.

“It’s not just a ball with cool flashy lightning,” Callum defended, clutching it closer to him, his grasp tightened. “It’s a Sky Primal Stone and inside it is a real storm captured at the top of Mount Kalik! It allows me to do Sky Magic wherever and whenever I want. It’s the only thing that gives me mage powers!”

“Yeah, but without you that orb is nothing. It’s just a fancy torch!” Ellis argued.

“And without it, I’m nothing.” Callum spoke with a heavy sigh, sitting down cross-legged. “I’m just a step-prince who can draw well and make poorly timed, debatably wry comments from time to time.”

“Sure, that ball gives you the ability to do magic, but I’m not convinced it gives you everything.” Ellis said encouragingly. “It wasn’t the ball who made up a plan and put it into words. It’s not the ball that produces noticeable confidence. It must all come from you, it should anyway. And I think it does.”

“Thank you, you seem pretty great too.” Callum smiled widely, feeling just a little bit flustered. It was very unusual to hear someone speak so highly of him. Ava barked looking displeasingly at him. “You too.” Callum quickly added. The wolf jumped on him and eagerly and sloppily licked his face. Callum mumbled something incoherent as he was overwhelmed with affection. It just had to be interrupted.

“Hey guys.” It was Rayla’s voice. “I think it’s gone!”

* * *

The team converged by the dead tree. Francis still had his sword out, his body arched forward, his eyes scanned furiously.

“I haven’t seen it or heard it in a while.” Francis said. “Neither has Rayla and she has her fancy ears to back her up.” She shot him a look and pursed her lips, despite the fact that he didn’t say anything untruthful.

“See ya, sucker!” Ezran jibed, getting a few sniggers.

“Now, let’s not taunt it.” Rayla said. “There is a little thing called irony. You say one thing that you are very sure about and then the complete opposite happens.”

“What? No!” Callum dismissed. “Maybe that’s how things work in stories, but in the real world…” he looked at Francis who’s head gradually tilted backwards, looking further and further above and behind them. His displeased gaze then fell on Callum.

“Stories, huh?” He said, then got accompanied by a deafening roar. He used his sword and hand to move the princes to the side and behind him. He got into a stance facing off the leech. “Okay, round two! This time we’re ready!” He proclaimed. It was well timed; everyone scattered. Irony struck twice, as Francis huffed an exasperated breath. “Well, that’s certainly a way to ruin the mood.” Francis remarked sarcastically. “Let’s try this again, are you sure you don’t want to start with me? I have plenty of succulent meat and considering how grumpy and annoying you seem to be you could definitely use my positive blood type.” He quipped, it was some form of consolation for a back-foot start. The leech didn’t entertain the idea of starting his fight with him, instead preferring to go for a much vulnerable Ezran. “Compose yourselves!” Francis imposed his presence and voice on this fight, getting everyone to grab hold of themselves. “Ellis grab Ezran!” Ellis and Ava obeyed him without question, as they darted across to get to Ezran before the leech could. Ezran jumped on Ava’s back as the leech dove past them. It continued to relentlessly chase them.

“Focus!” Callum also shouted across. “We can do this! The plan!” Ezran held Bait up, this needed to be a good start.

_Flash!_

The monster shrieked, as it stopped in its tracks flailing around in pain.

“Ellis and Ava, it’s your turn!” Callum guided.

_Woof! Woof! Woof!_

Ava ran around the stunned creature in circles. Her barks were accompanied by the kids on her back, as they did their best to sound tough and intimidating despite their high pitched and unbroken voices. The creature rose trying to duck and pick a side but it always went halfway before jerking back in confusion and uncertainty.

“Alright… my turn.” Callum breathed in. Moment of truth. He drew the rune. He saw the clouds in his orb turn greyer as sparkling electricity jumped between his hands, the Primal Stone and the rune. He lifted his free hand and directed it at the leech. Energy coursed through him as he felt every hair follicle stand up in his body. He felt a spark dash and dance in his eyes. The air around him grew warmer. He grinned. “ _Fulminis!_ ” He screamed as all of his built-up energy converged at his palms and flew out of it, right towards the unsuspecting leech.

_Zap!_

The creature contorted uncontrollably as it thrashed up and down against the ground, causing Callum to stumble and fall on his knees. It looked a little cruel to Francis and the rest, but it wasn’t going to stop Callum from celebrating the fact that the spell worked.

“Oh yeah! I did it! Get zapped by the zap hands! _My_ zap hands, yeah!” He jumped up and down waving his so called zap hands around.

“Can you be astounded later?” Rayla asked, approaching the creature from its front. Her sword was carefully poised in her healthy hand.

“The job is still not done.” Francis agreed, steadily approaching it from the side.

“Right yeah,” Callum cleared his throat. “The finishing move! Rayla and Francis you got this!”

Rayla carefully approached the flailing leech, trying to look for a perfect opening. It pounded the ground erratically and so getting squished was a very dangerous possibility. The leech suddenly rose, making Rayla stumble and fall backwards, her sword fumbled out of her hand. The group froze, as the monster shrieked and hungrily slid towards Rayla. She thought she screwed things up and let her team down again, but she didn’t realise that she didn’t face this problem alone; Francis had her back. He jumped in front of the leech, his sword dragged and grazed across its stomach.

_Slish!_

The monster held its advance as it jerked upwards in agonising pain. Francis reached out his hand to Rayla. He gave an expression that was simultaneously pleading and pitying and Rayla’s face frowned. This was going to hurt. She grabbed her sword with the bound hand and then with healthy one grabbed Francis’s hand. He spun her and she felt her body lift-off, since Moonshadow elves and her especially were incredibly light. This would be incredibly fun, had they not been in a life or death situation. She stuck her sword out and readied herself for the mind-numbing ache in her bound hand.

_Slash!_

Rayla’s blade cut right through the leech’s throat, decapitating it. She just managed to hold back a bellowing painful scream. Francis used the momentum to pull her towards him and jump out of the way of the falling leech. He turned in the air to fall on his back to soften her landing.

“Ow,” he howled. Rayla rolled away on her side. “Congratulations with your fist kill, Rayla! It was done in style, so you can have all the bragging rights in front of other warriors!” He said sincerely. He caught his breath, pulling himself upwards, but Rayla took a moment longer, her hand still ached. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Just about, I still have some sensation in my hand,” Rayla said. She held her hurt hand close to her chest. That spectacular move took quite a bit out of her. She felt exhausted, as she wanted to catch her breath. She sweated profusely. If that thing was a split second quicker or if Francis was a split second slower or if she didn’t read his plan…

She felt a strange crawling sensation moving from her legs up her body. The sensation uncomfortably multiplied and Rayla looked down. “Argh, get them off of me!” She shouted as she tried to swat the tiny leeches that came from the monster’s corpse, crawled up. Callum wasted no time and produced his _Aspiro_ spell, blowing the leeches off of Rayla. She quickly got up and backed away from the dead monster, afraid that more tiny things would crawl out of it.

“Would you look at that, I knew ‘Whoosh!’ should have been part of the plan!” Callum decreed.

“Good job, team!” Francis announced, before hurriedly moving on. “That was some top notch work from everyone, not let’s get out of here before we lose more time.”

* * *

Ezran still couldn’t pick out what the problem was. Something didn’t give his mind rest. They marched towards the ancient tree where the miracle healer was, but this stupid feeling wouldn’t shake off no matter what.

“Come on, let’s pick up the pace. Who knows how much time does the egg have left?” Francis pulled Callum onto a ledge. Ezran found it admirable that given the chance and the possibility of doing so, Francis would be happy to grab them and carry them altogether on his own back. It showed, even if he didn’t say it. He never felt afraid to express what he felt… unlike Ezran.

He was afraid to say why he was having such a feeling. Deep down he knew that Ava was the source, there was something she didn’t realise or didn’t communicate with him, but he was also afraid of Callum’s and frankly the reaction of the rest of his team. He thought they might turn away from him. He hesitated to even fully address his problem, but seeing his friends give so much to this, he would not be able to forgive himself if that problem turned out to be huge. He finally was brave enough to reach out to Ava, connecting his hand to her temple, he needed to get his mind to rest. She didn’t tell him anything new, until Ezran reiterated that the egg was dying… and then Ava whimpered.

“Oh no!” His hand fell, stopping dead in his tracks.

“Ez, what’s wrong?” Callum asked.

Ezran had to tell the team, because this was too serious to keep it a secret. “I’m afraid I have some terrible news,” he said gravely, thinking of how to put this into words. His team remained patient with him and waited for him to actually say it. “Even if we reach the tree, it won’t matter. There is no miracle healer.” He was met with stunned silence and Ezran wasn’t sure what else to do.

“You can’t just make a claim like that, Ez.” Callum said, a tad frustrated. “We made it all this way, we have Ava as living proof and then you say the miracle healer doesn’t exist? You owe us all an explanation, what makes you say that?”

“Ava told me.” Ezran hung his head.

“Ugh, here we go again!” Callum scolded, crossing his arms.

“It’s true! I can understand animals!” Ezran put his bag down and sat behind it.

“Well, why don’t you ask Bait or a very opiniated squirrel or… or…” Callum could go on, but he was stopped when Francis faced him, placing both hands on his shoulders and fixing him with a stern look. He needed to stay calm.

“I knew you wouldn’t listen,” Ezran looked dejected.

“Hey, I’m listening.” Rayla kneeled down beside him. “Although it’s a little difficult to believe.”

Ezran looked up and he saw that look in Rayla again, that caring, kind and encouraging softness in her eyes and smile. “I’ve always been different,” Ezran spoke up more confidently. “I found it difficult to make friends with other kids. I just feel like I don’t fit in.”

“That’s okay, fitting in is boring anyway.” Rayla waved her hand dismissively. Francis also approached Ezran, sitting down beside him, his hand draped around Ezran’s shoulder.

“You’re a really special and unique kid, Ez. They’re just jealous.” Francis radiated warmth. “And they are heavily missing out.” He playfully ruffled his hair.

“For some reason, I’ve always had this connection with animals.” Ezran scratched Bait. “A few years ago, I realised I could understand what they were saying.”

“You believe this?” Callum continued dismissively. Francis rose alarmingly.

“Why would he lie?” Rayla placed a hand on Ezran’s shoulder.

“Because he’s a kid?” Callum slowly approached.

“Callum? You’re all just kids.” Francis tried.

“Because it’s fun?” Callum wasn’t hearing him.

“Callum!” Francis’s voice grew colder and louder.

“Because he’s afraid to go up the mountain!” Callum pointed out, not paying attention to the furious Francis.

“I’m not afraid!” Ezran shouted.

“You know that’s a lie!” Francis defended Ezran, his voice was more and more grave. “I would like to see you jump into a death situation without a second thought, like Ezran did at the lake!”

“Just say the truth, Ezran!” Callum continued. “He told me about the group of racoons who told him that there was treasure behind a waterfall, but was there any when I went there?”

“No,” Ezran said defeatedly.

“But did my underwear get soaked?”

“Yes,” Ezran’s head dropped further.

“Case closed,” Callum concluded.

“The racoons were being mischievous,” Ezran tried to explain. “I have learned not to trust them.”

“This is ridiculous! See this is why you can’t make friends!” Callum took a step too far.

“Callum, back off!” Rayla rose, her hand remained on Ezran’s shoulder. Her defence was valiant, but what really sealed the deal was when Francis drew his sword and pointed it at Callum, making everyone freeze in shock.

“Good, I finally have your attention now.” Francis said, making everyone shiver like they were in a blizzard. He let the sword straighten out like a gate between Callum and Ezran, his grip still tightening on the hilt. “There are two friends right here with him and no one talks to my friends like that. So listen here, boy, you use that tone on Ezran again and you and I will have problems.”

“He’s my brother!” Callum made a weak excuse. “I…”

“And you’re also my friend, so I expect better!” Francis ploughed on mercilessly, forcing Callum to listen to him. “Ezran is not a lying, attention seeking kid and I’m astounded how I can see that after a few days, while you failed to spot that over your whole life.”

“So does that give you the right to judge how I talk to my brother?” Callum asked.

“Excuse me, but I’ve been babysitting him, while the rest of you get to focus on yourselves.” Francis sheathed his sword. “I can clearly see when you’ve overstepped the boundary and you’ve done that way before I drew my sword. You know me too well, if something’s wrong, then I won’t leave it alone.”

“So what, you believe him now?”

“Communication with animals is possible. Earthblood elves can establish it,” Francis pointed out.

“Does he look like an Earthblood elf to you?” Callum was baffled.

“That’s not the point,” Francis retorted. “Understanding animals is not outside the realm of possibilities.” Callum didn’t respond immediately, giving Francis the cue to move on. “I’ve made my point, now let’s go. We’re so close.”

“Rayla,” Ezran’s voice seemed so small. “Do you believe me?”

“Does it matter?” She sighed, hesitant to take sides. Ezran looked at the ground with his head hanging. He didn’t want to cause an argument, but he couldn’t leave things unsaid. He felt a strong pair of hands pick him up and he was back on Francis’s shoulders again.

“Come on, Ezran,” Francis said amicably. “If you won’t pick yourself up, I’ll help you. Let’s go school them kids.” Ezran rested his head on top of Francis’s, cheered up by his support.

* * *

The awkward silence was back again, but this time it was tense not because there was uneasiness over the personal boundaries like at the beginning, but more like with how on edge everyone seemed. Callum took out his little magic cube and inspected it carefully.

“Huh, it seems like the higher we go, the brighter the Moon Rune glows.” Callum thought out loud. Francis’s eyebrows furrowed at that.

“I have a theory,” Rayla said calmly, pointing to the sky. “The higher we go, the closer we get to the moon.”

“I don’t know,” Callum sounded unconvinced. “Something seems different this time.” Their conversation was interrupted however by a creepy moan that creaked throughout the surrounding trees, making everyone stop. Francis held Ezran’s leg that was dangling on his chest in a comforting gesture, as his eyes peered into the surrounding forest.

“Did anyone hear that?” Ellis asked.

“Yup! Ignoring it! Let’s keep moving!” Rayla went ahead and the disembodied moan called out again.

“Maybe we should find out what it is?” Ezran suggested.

“I’m going to share an old elven proverb with you,” Rayla said. “When travelling up a caldera trying to save a dying dragon egg and you hear a spooky sound – just keep walking,” and she did.

“Wow, that’s really specific.” Callum said unironically.

Rayla was close to groaning at that, but Francis didn’t hold back. “Come on Callum, you’re smarter than that. It was a joke.” Callum slapped himself in the face, embarrassed by his own stupidity.

“What if someone needs help?” Ezran voiced his concern, taking Francis’s words out of his mouth. Rayla stopped in her tracks.

“I share Ezran’s notion,” Francis let Ezran down off of him. “You can keep going, while I check it out.”

“No!” Rayla stopped, going back to them. “Ezran’s right, maybe somebody needs our help.” She placed her good hand on Francis’s shoulder. “I’ll go, because if anything springs up here, I would rather you be the one protecting the team and the egg, because…” she hesitated to continue, but she was able to swallow her pride. “You’re a better fighter… and in a better shape.” She added quickly.

She expected Francis to put up a fight, but to her great surprise he nodded. “We’ll be right here then.”

“Wow, I thought I would have to die twice in different lifetimes before I would be able to persuade you.” She quipped.

“Keep saying more smart stuff like that and not only I won’t be needed to be persuaded, but I will also compliment you, something that I said shouldn’t be done too often around you.” Francis humoured. Rayla looked fondly at Ezran, as she mover her hand to Ezran’s shoulder.

“You have a good heart, Ez. And in this case, it’s super annoying.” She headed towards the source of the moans, adding in the end. “Same goes for you, Francis!”

“She loves it!” Francis whispered to a smiling Ezran. “You’re in her good books now!”

Despite what Moonshadow assassins told her many times about staying focused on the missions and not ever getting side-tracked by anything else, she continued walking towards the moans. The whole place around her was covered with webs and the closer she got to the sounds the thicker the webs got. The moon was aiding her with the light in the sky, but down here what really lit up her creepy surroundings were the glowing mushrooms, that grew like parasites on the dead tree barks. They strangely had a nocturnal blue hue coming off of them, something that would usually only be found in the Moonshadow forest in Eastern Xadia.

Finally, she noticed a poor soul fully covered and trapped by the cobwebs underneath a tree, hanging like a cocoon. The webs led off of him like veins, as they seemed to twitch and pulsate, especially when the victim moved and groaned.

“Hey,” Rayla tried.

“Turn back!” It hollowed in response.

“Don’t worry, just hang on. I’m going to help.”

“Leave!” It weakly sighed again, choking almost. The cobwebs were so tight around the trapped person, that Rayla could see that the victim’s mouth was open. Rayla slid the sword down the cobwebs, careful not to accidently cut open the person trapped inside it… and then the voice shook like it grasped for air again. “Before it gets you too!” Dust crumbled from where Rayla cut with her sword, as the webs slowly withered away. Rayla gasped in horror and quickly ran away. She hurried back to the team.

While Callum was drawing again, the rest of the team’s spirits were kept up by Francis who seemed to have been telling another amusing story. His eyes trained on Rayla’s and to no surprise he seemed to get her straight away.

“Did you find someone?” Ezran asked.

“No, it was nothing. We have to get moving.” She avoided eye contact with everyone else. She felt a supportive pat on her back from Francis. She somehow felt like he said so much without opening his mouth, just like he worked everything out without her saying a word.

“Are you okay?” Callum approached, then stated. “You saw something.” He could feel it too. Rayla made sure she was out of earshot of everyone else. She felt fine when Francis was able to read her in those moments, but somehow saying and admitting it out loud felt awkward. She felt very exposed to tell her feelings or moods or truths, something that Moonshadow elves didn’t really do often. She took a deep breath, not particularly keen on opening herself up nor on the picture that surfaced in her brain.

“It was barely alive,” Rayla almost whispered, afraid of anyone else hearing her. “It crumbled to dust right before my eyes. It was horrible, Callum.” He looked sorry to have forced her to relive the memory. He didn’t press her on it, as he gave her a sympathetic glance.

* * *

The team came to a thick wall of webs and Rayla wasn’t keen to deal with them again.

“It might be better if we go around.” She stated, but the webs seemed to stretch an infinitely long way.

“We have to keep moving forward, no turning around.” Callum reiterated, impatiently. “Can we not cut through this?”

“Build a fort in front me and I’ll go through it, head first.” Francis quoted.

“I’ll guess we’ll find out what made this thing.” Rayla sighed. She and Francis used their blades to cut a path through the webs, until they were on the other side. She noticed how a curious Callum reached out to the webs. She caught his hand. “Don’t touch those!” They both jerked back when they heard something move in the shadows.

“What is that noise?” Ezran asked unnerved.

“I don’t know, Ez.” Francis said. To him it sounded like something was skittering around them. “But it’s probably a giant spider considering all the cobwebs.” Francis pointed out and he heard Callum gulp loudly at that. Something screeched loudly behind them and wouldn’t you know it, it was a giant spider. “I hate spiders and I hate that I was right about this. At least this one won’t try to house in my mess of a hair.”

“ _Fulminis!_ ” Callum was quick to react, but when lightning struck, the spider disappeared. Callum panicked waving his hands around. “Argh, did I get it? I feel like it’s in my hair!”

“Really? It’s a two ton magical spider! You would know if it was in your hair.” Rayla remarked exasperatedly.

“We need to listen,” Ellis said. The skittering sounds haven’t seized. The team faced different directions, peering their eyes through the trees.

“Does anyone know where it is?” Callum asked clutching his primal ball hard for comfort. Francis glanced above them and almost instantly wished he didn’t. He looked back down and around him.

“He’s definitely not behind any of the trees around us,” he said.

“How do you know that?” Ellis asked.

“Because he’s right above us! Run!”

The spider landed behind them when the team retreated, making them all run quicker than they ever did before. When they, safely hid behind a random tree, they tried to catch their breath, almost panting as loudly and quickly as Ava was.

“How do we get past it?” Ezran asked, gulping madly for air.

“Without getting stuck in those cobwebs,” Rayla added.

“Guys,” Callum said alarmed. “Where is Francis?” There was a painful yelp, followed by a few groans…

“It will take more than that to take me down,” they heard him shout. Francis stayed behind. The team saw the spider blocking his path back to them, but despite Francis holding the spider back he didn’t make a conscious effort to return to them. He was distracting it.

“Why? Why did he have to rise up to the challenge?” Rayla hissed.

The spider screeched avoiding any of Francis’s advances, mockingly moving around him. It became a stalemate, as Francis patiently waited for the spider to make the first move. Rayla’s Moonshadow assassin training told her to sneak around the fight. They had to bring the egg to safety… yet something stopped her. She couldn’t understand why he was in no hurry to retreat. Francis was never an arrogant show-off and he did everything with so much heart and passion, especially if it came to them. Rayla realised than she may not have fully known him yet, which bothered her sometimes, but one thing was clear – he did anything and everything for their sake. He valued life of other beings and most importantly he valued his team greatly. They mattered to him and she realised that everyone in the team mattered to her, he mattered to her. Looking around she realised that Francis also mattered just as much to the rest of them, as they anxiously looked on, holding their breaths and fiddling with their hair or clothes as if they were there with him. Who would lead them and come up with ingenious quips and plans? Who would match her intensity and sarcasm and challenge her to always be better? Was she seriously thinking that if the egg survived it wouldn’t be worth it if Francis wasn’t there… or anyone gets lost? She somehow knew deep down that Francis would consider that to be a price too high for success… and she could understand why… ‘everyone else matters just as much’.

“I’m getting him out of there!” Rayla said, running back in, deaf to what the rest of the team had to say, when they urged her to reconsider. She dove blindly back in.

“Wait a minute…” Ezran squinted his eyes at the spider. “That’s not how spiders talk, it’s not real! We can just go past it! Rayla! Francis!” Ezran ran after Rayla.

“Ezran, no! You’ve lost your mind!” Callum tried to catch him, but failed, so he chased right after him.

Ezran managed to get in time to hear Rayla and Francis exchange their classic quips towards each other.

“Glad to have you back here, Rayla, but I was hoping you would take the hint and go around while I distract it.” Francis said.

“Aren’t you the one who keeps telling that the characters and personas are just as important as the mission?”

“I guess I’m glad that some of what I said got to you. I mean everything should with those ears…” Francis’s eyes widened in panic. “Ezran, what are you doing here? Get back to Callum this instant!” He ordered, but to his and Rayla’s horror Ezran jumped right in front of the spider… and screamed right in its face. It screeched back, the wind ruffling Ezran’s hair.

“This is so fun,” Ezran said cheerily. “You should try yelling at it.” He urged.

“Okay, across my travels this is by far the most bizarre thing I’ve ever experienced.” Francis said, standing still in confusion. Callum managed to get to them, breathing heavily through his mouth. Ellis and Ava caught up to them and gave Callum a concerned look, he didn’t even cover that much distance.

“This spider is not real and it won’t do anything to us! Oh…” Ezran noticed blood gushing from Francis’s arm.

“No, that is my fault. I scraped a jagged rock when I jumped out of the way. The spider didn’t technically hurt me, only avoided me. It never touched me.” Francis looked displeased with himself, as he narrowed his eyes on the spider. “So it’s fake… an illusion, eh?”

“You were right, Ez… all this time?” Callum’s face fell, as he stared into the ground. “I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you. I will never doubt you again.”

“If you really mean it…” Ezran started.

“I do.”

“Then you have to do the thing.” Ezran’s eyes glowed.

Callum noticed Rayla tilt her head in confusion… _not in front of her_. Francis crossed his arms and leant back, clearly intrigued… _oh no, not in front of him too. Ellis and Ava, too?_

“Here? Now?” Callum managed and unfortunately for him Ezran nodded. Callum inhaled deeply and began to shuffle his legs, rhythmically raising his knees. He waved his hands, pushing the air around him and making silly faces.

“Look, it’s Callum’s famous jerk-face dance!” Ezran applauded, while Francis lightly cheered him. The rest were just confused.

“You know what, for someone who’s as clumsy and uncoordinated as you are, you don’t dance half bad. There is some charm and personality to it.” Francis mocked and consoled at the same time.

“Knees higher!” Ezran urged. The spider also looked like it was enjoying Callum’s dance. He spun around, picking up the tempo and putting his hands behind his head, occasionally flicking his hair backwards.

“Okay, okay, I don’t want to be smitten.” Francis said light-heartedly . “I’m pretty sure Rayla is hanging by a thread, so let’s move on.” When Rayla’s brain registered his jab, she gave him a physical jab in his gushing arm, but Francis was unaffected.

“Thank goodness, let’s go already.” Callum said very quickly, it was the perfect excuse.

* * *

Francis felt uneasy, just too many things lined up. A fake spider, the glowing Moon Rune, the moonstone collar, the protective nature of these monsters, Ezran saying there was no miracle healer. What could all of this mean? Did they trek up The Cursed Caldera for no reason and that there was no way the egg could’ve been saved?

_The knocking… not the knocking, not now! Focus!_

He shook it off, as he paced up and down, searching for another way. He always had a back-up plan, but with how dire their situation was and how barren their possibilities and resources were, he hadn’t had one this time. Ellis told them that the miracle healer just showed up randomly, so they had no option but to wait.

A bright blinding flash in the sky interrupted his thought process. The team piled out from the tree, to greet the light. A gracious bird appeared gliding down to them, a Moon Phoenix. Despite seeing them many times, it still mesmerised Francis. Its feathers radiated a black and blue nocturnal colours and its azure eyes peered at them in curiosity. The same azure light came off of her tail like it was on fire. It really looked gorgeous, but Francis didn’t have the opportunity of taking in such beauty. His heart fell as soon as he saw the horns of the person who dismounted. Deep down he had had a feeling, almost a certainty that there was no miracle healer. The fact that she was an elf was the central piece to the puzzle that had been slowly building up in his head. He wanted to hope. It was desperate, there was nowhere else to turn. Would all their good natured hard work be left unrewarded? Were they going to fail? Francis threw that thought out of his head, as he went back to his brooding pacing. He silently cursed at himself for not finding a book about hatching and caring for the dragon eggs.

“Ezran was right all along.” Rayla sighed defeatedly. “There is no miracle healer, she can’t heal anything. She is a Moonshadow Mage, an illusionist.” Rayla slapped herself in the face, finally noticing when all the pieces of the puzzle fell neatly in place.

“Good evening.” Francis couldn’t forget his manners, momentarily meeting his brown eyes with the mage’s light green eyes… but only momentarily as his mind fixated back on finding a solution as quickly as possible.

“Good evening,” the Moonshadow Mage indulged him. She was much older than the rest of them, maybe even combined. She wore white and teal robes, that screamed Moonshadow Mage. “I’m Lujanne, guardian of the Moon Nexus.”

“So that’s where it is.” Francis tuned back in for a split second, remembering that he read a lot about it.

“I’m such an idiot, I should’ve figured it out.” Rayla pinched the bridge of her nose. “None of the monsters were real…”

“Yep, they were there to scare you, in order to keep you away from the Nexus.” Lujanne said proudly.

“I don’t understand,” Ellis said, probably speaking for Callum and Ezran as well. “If you can’t heal, then how did you save Ava’s leg?”

“I never have,” she approached Ava, affectionately scratching her ear. “I remember you, you were both scared, but you most importantly had spirit, which brought you here. I understood that humans would have trouble accepting the cub. They all thought she was broken, when in truth she never was. She never needed that fourth leg to be happy, it was necessary for others. I enchanted this moonstone collar, so others could see the fourth leg, as though it was real.” Lujanne demonstratively removed the collar and Ava’s fourth leg flashed away.

“No, please!” Ezran pleaded. “We’ve got a real problem. An illusion won’t fix it.” He placed his backpack in front of him and opened it, showing the egg. It was so dim, it barely had life to flicker. It was almost dull.

“It’s the egg of the Dragon Prince, we were protecting it trying to return it to its mother,” Rayla stumbled and stammered. “Well, trying to prote…”

“Is there a way we could save it?” Francis cut her off, going straight to the point.

“It’s fading too quickly.” Lujanne said. “The only chance is if we hatch it right now, but that’s not possible. Storm dragons can only be born in the eye of the storm,” and the sky was clear as far as the eye could see. Ezran looked desperately at Lujanne, but she only sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“This is all my fault,” Rayla began to tear up, grabbing her bound wrist. “I dropped the egg into the lake. I’ve let you all down… I’ve let the whole world down.” She slumped on her knees, trying her best to hold back from crying.

“Hey, hey, come on Rayla, don’t be so harsh on yourself!” Francis embraced her, letting her hide her face in his shoulder. Silent sobs escaped her ragged breaths. “This isn’t a responsibility for you to carry on your own. We’re a team and we do things together! This is our responsibility!” Francis said, his mind still searching, refusing to give up.

“You tried, Rayla,” Ezran’s voice cracked, as he joined the hug. Francis felt another set of tears trickle down his shirt. “You’re so strong and brave…” Ezran trailed off. Just as Rayla and Ezran hid their faces, so did Francis, as he looked away from his friends. The knocking was back… only far, far worse… it was slowly turning into pounding. Francis couldn’t come up with anything. Nothing! No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t will a storm into existence. He didn’t have weather control at the tips of his hand nor did he have a storm locked in a confined space in his pocket. Unless… unless?

“Wait a minute,” he heard Callum mutter. Did he just get the same idea? Callum reached into the backpack, clutching onto The Primal Stone. “What if I…?” Francis stared at Callum, waiting if he would do it. Callum raised his hand… it shook, hesitated… but the importance of The Primal Stone now seemed so far away, even for Callum. He threw it as hard as he could at the ground sending the shards of glass everywhere. The storm that was itching its way out of the now broken orb, rose high up in the air, as grey clouds gathered.

“Callum, I love you, you’re just as crazy as I am!” Francis shouted through the storm ecstatically, pulling Callum back. His enthusiasm was revived. “Everyone hold onto your butts, this is going to be crazy!”

The wind swept the ground and anyone who was standing fell on their knees. Ezran clutched Rayla as hard as he could, he felt that he would take off like a feather. Perhaps it was a mutual feeling for everyone, as everyone held on painfully to each other… but the egg was not secure. To everyone’s horror, the egg began to roll right towards the cliff edge.

“Francis!” Rayla slid one of her blades to him, as she ran towards the egg without further explanation. Francis wedged the blade into the ground for Callum and Ezran, as he anxiously looked on at Rayla. She was on her own, as fate rested only on her shoulders now. She was quick, but so was the egg. It rolled closer and closer… it went off! Rayla cupped the egg with her bound arm, almost going off herself, as her leg dangled off the ledge. No one was dying on her watch! She tried crawling back, but the wind was so strong and up against her, it was impossible to straighten up. The storm became thicker and louder as everything sunk into turbid greyness.

“Hold on Rayla! Just a little bit longer. Francis is coming to help you!” She barely heard. It sounded like Callum. Holding onto the ground with all her might, she lifted her head and saw someone slowly approaching her. It was hard to discern the shape, until she saw the cape being pelted and thrashed around what unmistakeably became the unshaken figure of Francis. His face emerged, exuding calmness that infected her too, despite his eyes and body being understandably tensed. Despite the strain, his belief in the best outcome was written all over his face. He took a knee in front of her, sinking his sword into the ground behind him and with his other hand he reached out to her. Without a moment of hesitation, she grabbed it. She wouldn’t face this alone.

She was glad that she did, as the wind whipped even harsher now and she felt her legs lose contact with the ground. She hung in the air, looking like she became as light as the cape that Francis was wearing. Her only hope was that Francis would have her covered. His resolute face told her silently that he had her hand gripped tightly and he wasn’t letting go. His face sang the song of unwavering confidence and unstoppable determination, but when she glanced at his other hand behind him, she saw how much it cost him to keep it up and strive towards success. His hand held the sword so tightly that she noticed how along his muscly forearms, his veins surfaced, wanting to escape. Blood began to slowly drip out of his cut on the ground as Francis furiously held the sword even tighter. He wasn’t giving in. His hand twitched, turning paler and paler and he briefly lost his composure as that pain winced on his face… but he wasn’t letting go, his grip didn’t lighten… and soon his song returned.

Rayla noticed how she was getting lower and lower and she could start to see the rest of her team in the background. She was glad when her feet finally felt the sturdy ground beneath her. She was fine and Francis held on. She looked above her and realised that they were in the eye of the storm now. The egg began to sparkle with lightning and Rayla tentatively placed the egg in front of her. As soon as she did, lightning began to strike the egg as it levitated. The lightning produced the iridescent colours when it struck, turning the previously grey storm into mesmerising rainbow coloured gusts around them. No one wanted to move, afraid that everything would crumble if they did. The storm began to slowly dissipate and Francis thought he noticed the cracks in the egg when the last lightning hit it. The egg fell back down and everyone held their breath. The egg wasn’t budging and no one was sure how to react. Should they be sad and disappointed or did they have to wait a few more seconds?

_Crack!_

A curious little light blue snout popped out of the egg and a little baby dragon clumsily stumbled and fell out of the shell, its snow white mane felt the breeze of the evening air around it, but he couldn’t see anything.

“Come on Bait, his eyes are stuck!” Ezran pushed a disgruntled Bait towards the dragon. “You need to lick them open!” Bait was hesitant, but he timidly and quickly stroke his tongue around the dragon’s eyes. He slowly opened them. Hearts melted when the blue eyed dragon yipped and excitedly jumped on Bait, who didn’t look like the babysitting type. He quickly however moved on to Ezran, mercilessly licking his face.

“You know your own name! Azymondias.” Ezran cuddled the dragon, their foreheads meeting. “We’ll call you Zym for short.” Francis was bouncing on the balls of his feet, but something was holding him back from outright celebrating. Ezran continued. “Meet my friends, Lujanne and her phoenix, Ava and Ellis, my big brother Callum and his inseparable sketchbook, the caped hero and our leader Francis and that’s Rayla, our first and best Moonshadow elf friend.” Francis unlike others couldn’t manage a chuckle, his eyes stared at Rayla’s hand who seemed to forget about it after all the commotion. Zym curiously eyed each of them before seeing Rayla. “You almost blew her off the mountain but she saved you!” Ezran added. Zym wagged his tail non-stop as he bounced slowly towards Rayla. She decided to make it easy for him as she met him halfway and Zym looked up at her fondly, but… if a dragon’s face could falter, then Rayla would describe it just like that, when Zym’s eyes moved from her face to her side… reminding her of her sickly violet arm. He licked it and sorrow panged at Rayla’s heart.

“Aww! It’s okay little one.” Rayla said softly. “The important thing is you! One miracle is enough for me for today.” She suddenly went rigid. Did she just imagine the binding going less tight? She double-checked, it was still on. Zym noticed the binding too… he tugged it. It gave way. Rayla’s heart stopped. Zym pulled harder and the binding snapped off, sending him flying backwards towards the huddled princes.

Rayla held her hand, rubbing it in disbelief. She watched the colour and life come back to her hand. She managed something between a snort and a chuckle. She couldn’t process what exactly she was feeling. Relief? Happiness? Disbelief? She looked at the princes, their eyes were brimming with happiness... but it was Francis’s reaction that was priceless. He yelped a hooray and ran laps around them, ecstasy swallowing his body. He may have been serious and demanding, but he knew how to celebrate and he sure never held back from triumph. Before anyone could stop him, he grabbed Ezran and Callum as he ran by them. He stopped by Rayla, enveloping her in a bear hug. Despite everything, there was going to be no miracle, she was going to suffocate in her friends’ embrace. She was saved by Azymondias again, as he nuzzled against them, demanding to be let in the group hug.

“You are certainly a royal baby, Zym. You demand and require a lot of attention!” Francis chuckled. It seemed to everyone that a heavy weight had been relieved from Francis’s shoulders. All of their efforts to save the egg and specifically his tenacity to help Rayla with her binding had paid off, just like he always believed it would, even if Rayla accepted her potential loss and instead prioritised the safety of the egg. It finally allowed Francis to let his guard down and bask in all of their glory, slowing down and catching his breath. They finally pulled away and Francis was able to observe the little baby with his mind clear, among the rest of his friends, who surrounded the playful and excited Zym.

“Look!” Ezran pointed to a purple light in the sky, which flashed. Purple dots descended and flew around them.

“It’s beautiful!” Callum whispered.

“They’re so gentle!” Rayla said. “They even tickle a little,” that throw-away comment was a piece of information Francis was going to exploit for sure, as he grinned mischievously. Zym certainly was loving this, as he chittered excitedly. Who could ask for a better way to be born, even if it caused so much stress, probably deducting a decade from everyone’s life expectancy? Francis squinted at the purple dots. Were those wisps? He frowned. Wisps were never purple, they seemed to have been tampered with!

He looked at the sky, blocking out the laughter from his friends. It seemed to him that there was a very faint purple trail, for which he had to squint very hard, painted across the sky, leading to them all the way from Mount Kalik. He looked to the side at Lujanne, who shared the same concerned expression on her face. She nodded. Francis stared into the darkness of the night… he could feel a malicious smile creep in its depths, looking at them.

* * *

Callum took the time to draw out the thing that was on his mind since the start of their climb. He drew in landscape across two pages. It was their team, climbing up a mountain. Francis was ahead of them looking encouragingly and supportive at the rest of his team behind him. His body was steadfast and sideways, his hand reached back towards the group with an open palm, either beckoning to keep up with him or offering a helping hand. His hero’s cape flailed in the wind, looking almost like it wanted to shield him and the rest of the team. Rayla was next in line, holding her hurt hand close to her chest, her iron stare focused on the peak of the mountain, her ears sharp and attentive looking out for any danger. Then closing the line was Callum and Ezran, with Callum leaning forward and protectively holding his little brother by his shoulders. He had a primal stone ready at his side. Ezran who carried his backpack had a hopeful smile plastered on his face. Completing the drawing were Ellis and Ava, who were slightly to the side and above them on a hill, guiding them and pointing up towards the peak of the mountain. It radiated a hopeful glow, a light that pulled their team towards it.

Over the page, Callum would later draw the source of this hope and happiness – all of them smiling and sitting around the new born Dragon Prince, even though Callum would look smaller than the rest, with his shoulders slightly hunched like he was carrying a heavy backpack. His demeanour was similar to the sketches he used to draw when he was back in Katolis, before this journey started.

Callum looked with pride at his landscape drawing and even though he could clean it up and it wasn’t technically finished, he couldn’t resist the urge to write the name of it in the corner. He called it: ‘An Uphill Struggle’.


	10. Interlude

“Golden Knight Janai?” A Sunfire soldier saluted her squadron’s leader. Janai was a Sunfire elf who wore maroon and golden armour that reflected the sun in the day and glistened from the lava flow of The Breach in the night. She was impossible to miss, especially during a fight, where the spirit of honour burned the brightest. Her lucid fiery yellow eyes shot up from the letter she was reading so quickly, that a few strands of her dark red hair fell from behind her golden headpiece. The warrior’s headpiece that crowned Golden Knight Janai was shaped like dragon horns of their revered Archdragon Sol Regem and thus it screamed high rank. Her hand formed a fist and impatiently hid the disobeying strands behind the warrior’s headpiece, as her sand coloured cape cut into the chair.

“Can’t you see I’m reading a report here?” She looked incredulously at the soldier who disturbed her, as her golden tattoos that came from her eyes down to her jaw line, resembled the burning desert sun rays. “Quick. What do you want?”

“I-It’s Ignatius…” the soldier trembled a little, momentarily breaking her composure. Janai’s face softened at the mention of her friend’s name. “He wishes to speak to you… about what happened.” Janai’s face soured and strained. All of the previous softness was abruptly gone.

“He may come in.” She dismissed the soldier, going back to her letter addressed from the Sunfire Queen, Khessa.

“Golden Knight Janai,” Ignatius’s voice once again made her look up from the letter. At least this time, she finished reading it.

“Knight Ignatius,” she said evenly, putting the letter to the side. “Please take a seat.” He obeyed… and like the sunset, the formalities slowly dissipated.

“You don’t look particularly happy, Janai. I heard about what happened. May you shed some light on it?”

“The good-for-nothing humans are up to something. There has been an influx in their numbers on the borders.” Janai said airily.

“They always do that, that’s nothing new.” Ignatius shook his head. “I can see it in your eyes, that you are raring to go back to The Breach and have another fight.”

“I’m always raring for a fight,” Janai said sarcastically.

“That is true.” Ignatius smiled. “With that fiery heart of yours, the only place to thrive is in the heat of the battle.” He leant back in his chair. “Still, there is something different in you today. It can’t be just the fact that there are more humans to beat up.”

“They are hiding something.” Janai said decisively.

“And you are saying that because of the encounter you had today?”

“Yes.” Janai replied. “It was that human general, the one I heard so much about.”

“Ah, that one, the deaf one.” Ignatius nodded. “She is fearless and incredibly vicious against our kind. So vicious, that she uses her shield as a weapon rather than to defend herself.”

“I’ve seen it first-hand today when we ambushed her.” Janai recalled the cold hatred in that general’s eyes. “She took out three elves before she was forced to disengage.” She hid the little prideful smile that wanted to surface in that moment. She would remember the surprised face of the general when Janai’s Sun Forge blade sliced through the general’s sword, cutting it in half. She fought well, but again after Janai pulled out her weapon, the general was forced to disengage. It was a shame that three lives had to be snuffed out during the ambush.

“Are you telling me she was alone?” Ignatius asked.

Janai nodded. “She was calmly walking across The Breach. I think that there must be something going on. Only when something gives off a sense of safety and security can a soldier walk like that.”

“Yes, there is some sense to that logic. You may be right.” Ignatius paused. “Have you written a report to the families of the deceased.”

“No, not yet.” Janai sighed. She had never been in charge of The Breach’s squadron. Those who were in charge during skirmishes and the war, told her about how worst and heaviest moments always came to them after the battle. The names of the deceased haunted and stayed with them forever. She was assigned to the positions a few months back, but all this time she was being delayed. She spent searching and surveilling Lux Aurea for a certain individual that was rumoured to be a human who travelled across Xadia.

“Well, we’ll see if you will be able to stay as spirited and vehement after that.” Ignatius said earnestly. It would be a true of her character. He was about to get up, when he noticed the letter next to her. “Is this from Her Radiance?”

“It is.” Janai replied. “She mentioned that the Skywing and Earthblood elves will support us, should the war break out.”

“You really think that would be necessary?”

“A large confrontation is inevitable.” Janai said gravely. “We might as well initiate it first and get the upper hand.”

“Are you crazy?” Ignatius threw his arms.

Janai looked at him as if he grew a second head. She felt her face heat up. “Why do you think both sides have been increasing their number of troops? If we are able to push them back from The Breach, then Xadia will be better off!”

“You don’t understand.” Ignatius looked away from her. “War is the worst possible course of action for us and if we initiate it, then it would be suicide for us!”

“How?”

“Do I need to remind you that even if the Dragon Queen is still capable and powerful, she is old and lost two of her loved ones?” Ignatius stared at her wide eyed. “She could pass away from grief any moment and do you know what will happen then? Every single Archdragon will be vying to become the new ruler of Xadia and each elven kind will support their own Archdragon. We will all be divided and then the humans will unite and attack us, getting all of us one by one. If we don’t hold out and I heavily doubt we will without the support of other elves, then all of us will fall quicker than the rate at which we exiled the humans thousands of years ago!”

“Exactly why we shouldn’t delay!” Janai rose to her feet, slamming the table with her fists. Her eyes suddenly became brighter, as heat started coming off of her. “The longer we wait, the more likely what you said is going to happen. We should initiate war as quickly as possible and get it over with now, before the Dragon Queen dies.”

Ignatius remained unmoved in his chair. He didn’t want to have an argument with a friend, especially with Janai when she got in that state. You would have better chances convincing a brick wall, than her when she was losing her temper, because the wall at least would echo your words back. “What is Her Radiance saying on the matter?”

“Nothing yet.” Janai said, her fists still clenched and glowing a little.

“Well, it is up to her to decide when to start that war, so our opinons on it are meaningless.” Ignatius got up from his chair and headed for the exit. “I shall leave you to your reports. I will see you later, Janai.”

Janai’s passionately burning eyes escorted him until he exited. She grabbed the letter and crumpled it into her fist. She commanded her body to heat up more and she felt her skin become incandescently hot. She saw the familiar molten lines surface in her dark skin, as she called for her Sunfire form. The letter in her hand caught on fire and flames rose from her ever clenching fist. It felt colder than her highly energetic body. She watched the flames die in her fist and she snuffed it out completely when she clenched her fist harder. She threw the ashes to the side and once she calmed down, she sat at the desk. It was a letter addressed solely to her and no one would care about it. Those three honourable soldiers were her responsibility, their flame of life extinguished prematurely… but unlike the letter, they had families and friends who cared about them. She couldn’t throw them away like ash. As she wrote a letter to their families about their deaths, a question surfaced in her head: how many letters would she have to write, if the war broke out?

* * *

Viren brooded around the castle. His every advance to get a meeting of the Pentarchy kept getting blocked. He felt stagnant and constricted by the council, who refused to see the rising danger on the border. More Sunfire elves were spotted at The Breach, but everyone around acted like it was no big deal. It boiled his insides at the thought of their ignorance, but nothing that he did or said worked. It just felt like he pulled a cart uphill and every few minutes the council added to its weight, slowing him down with other petty issues that didn’t affect the border whatsoever. If there was a way to bypass them, then life would be perfect for him. He desperately sought counselling, but the only person he trusted was dead… yet he absentmindedly headed to King Harrow’s chambers anyway.

The aftermath of the battle was clear, as the knocked over chairs and tables were a painful reminder of his failed duty. He failed to persuade the king and now he was in a mess, on his own. Viren neatly put the chairs and tables back exactly where he remembered them, as he sat by the main desk and stared at Harrow’s family portrait. He remembered fondly how he would find Harrow writing his kingly documents and scrolls, occasionally looking up at that portrait when he looked for their strength to plough on… and now his wife mockingly stared back at him. Sarai had saved him when they went on that mission to retrieve the titan heart, but sacrificed herself in the act. He wasn’t able to do the same for Harrow and now they were in a happier place.

Her demise seven years prior became the very reason King Harrow went out and killed Thunder… and her dying breath that Viren collected, became key in producing the creatively deadly spell. He had it all planned out and only had to wait for the perfect opportunity to set things in motion. When his daughter retrieved the horn of the unicorn, something he failed to do on his own, the final piece of the puzzle was complete. Him and Harrow rode out and avenged Sarai with her own spear… but it could never bring her back.

Harrow was never quite the same after her death and neither was her sister, Amaya, who grew colder to Viren. She probably felt that he was partially responsible for her death, but Sarai made that choice to come back to him because it was important for the mission to succeed. He told Harrow that the wounded had to be left behind, that they slowed them down… and just as expected they did slow them down. Harrow’s honour and pride made him reluctant to leave them behind… and that mistake was fatal for three queens. He hoped that at least now, Harrow would understand why he had to do this. It was logical and necessary to move forward quickly.

But now, his and King Harrow’s work was threatened by a child king and an inexperienced closest advisor for a brother, both of whom would regress all of it. They wouldn’t needed to be eliminated if the council weren’t so prickly about only doing things when they were back home. Humanity was going to die at the hands of the elves if they didn’t act. They had to attack the elves first, before they were ready! Why was it not obvious to anyone else? How could Viren get the other kings to listen?

Viren noticed that he didn’t close the drawer that fell out when he was moving the table. So he went to close it, but then something caught his eye… a seal? Yes… and not just any seal – the king’s seal! That was exactly what he needed to bypass the council and call the meeting of the Pentarchy! Humanity could be saved! Now, he just had to use the right words.


	11. Staring at a Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two days have passed since Zym's birth. The team decided to take a break to recharge their batteries, as danger lurked closer to them. Back in Katolis, General Amaya tasked Marcos with spying on Viren, who was trying to overcome another challenge. Due to his long absence, Marcos paid a visit to Francis's family.

“Good morning! Time to get up!” The booming velvety voice of Francis commanded Rayla, as soon as the first rays of sunshine blinked into existence. It was time for their training and morning routine.

“Ugh, please, can’t I sleep in?” Rayla resisted.

“Nope!” Francis continued in his normal vigorous tone. Rayla huffed in disappointment, but before she could do anything, she felt him grab her hood and tug her out of bed, dragging along the floor towards the exit.

“There are barely any lights.” She said groggily, as she slowly felt energy seep back into her.

“Ethari is right,” Francis said with a mischievous grin on his face. “You are a little Moon-Ray, not a morning person.”

“You are not calling me that!” Rayla hissed in annoyance, but she didn’t threaten him. Francis let go of her and she plopped by the door.

“Not unless you force me by whining and being lazy about something.” Francis promised a little casually. In his defence, he was merciful enough to let her sleep in the previous day, since they were all emotionally drained after experiencing two miracles the night before. It did come at a slight cost: the two sparring sessions they did were far more gruesome and intense. If spending four years in constant travel across various terrain wasn’t testament to Francis’s incredible strength, then his highly demanding workouts and training sessions were. Rayla wondered how disciplined he was if he was able to maintain such athleticism on his own all this time.

Francis insisted that they go to the river by the waterfall for hygienic purposes, as well as to start their work out there. Rayla noticed how loosened up Francis was, as he cracked heartfelt jokes with her and even one-upped her on the snide remarks she sometimes made. Although she admitted he was a better fighter than her, she hadn’t really called him a teacher or a mentor, even though he practically was being one right now. He was leading her and spearheaded the rest of the team. She never had a mentor like him before. His vehement mood and actions that were oh so infectious, were coming back. There was more life in him again. He was acting like that when they first met him back by the river a few days ago, but ever since then he was toned down and supressed.

A memory surfaced to Rayla’s mind, that night after they met, she remembered waking up to heavy breathing that didn’t belong to any of the princes. Francis had his sword out and looked very grey under the moonlight, his eyes staring into nothingness. He looked weird, like a corpse. He was there, but also not there; his mind was somewhere else. He turned a similar grey colour again at the lake and also seemed to fade out of reality back at the cave after that incident. There was also the time where he looked like he would murder Tristan with his eyes and voice alone.

Rayla felt a little unsure now. Francis seemed to be so kind and warm, but sometimes he could turn cold and abrasive. Right now he looked so bright and colourful about the whole day, but she knew that if something really bad happened that colour could turn into just as expressive inky darkness. It seemed to Rayla that there were so many seemingly opposing things and such extremes packed in Francis, that she was surprised that he was one person, one character. She didn’t fully understand him or his duality. He clearly didn’t tell her everything about himself and with how easy sometimes it seemed for him to phase in and out of different characters, she wasn’t sure how far away he was from going insane.

What bothered her more was that he seemed to know so much about her just from a glance, but Rayla knew only the things that the princes told her, leaving the rest to be second-guessed from his actions. It was only a few days ago when she said that things outside the mission didn’t matter, but now she felt uncomfortable about not knowing him. He talked about the real her, but she couldn’t put a finger on who _he_ really was. With such changing approaches and moods it left her guessing. It made things unpredictable.

“Hey,” Francis flicked his fingers at her, trying to grab her attention. “I know I have a tendency to let my mind burrow deep inside me, but I never do it when there’s something important happening!” Rayla apologised, but Francis didn’t seem to be annoyed or displeased with her. That smile was infectious and she started focusing on her training.

* * *

The warm-up and workout that she did with Francis was very reinvigorating. It seemed that he was right about the fact that through all the travelling he was able to perfect his training, picking the best of both worlds and all cultures. It felt so new to her, yet some bits were very familiar. He was highly demanding like Runnan was, but much more compassionate and patient… or at least he showed that. If Runnan was extremely pedagogic and rigid in his tutoring approach, then Francis was far more expressive and versatile, seeming to get as equal amount of fun out of it as she was. It breathed so much fresh air into her.

“I’m really enjoying this,” Rayla confessed, interrupting him from sharpening his sword. “This is different.”

“Hey, you’re learning!” Francis said with a genuine and endearing grin.

Rayla felt that there was a tease coming up, but she didn’t manage to not mirror his expression. “What?”

“You confessing and admitting things.” Francis elaborated, his proud grin was slightly escaping the boundaries of his mouth. “I mean I could see it, but I thought you would act like a typical Moonshadow elf and not say anything about it, leaving me to guess purely off of your body language.”

“Shut up.” She managed to stifle a genuine laugh, but she couldn’t let him keep winning all the time. “Hey, could I borrow your sharpener thingy?”

“They’re called whetstones.” Francis said amused and surprised by her lack of knowledge. “Yes, you can. I was going to suggest you do, they do look dull.” Francis handed her the whetstone.

“Do you think we’re going to get an audience tonight?” Rayla asked.

“I’d prefer if you showed off a little less and concentrated more on the actual battle, I’m trying to help you after all.” Francis pointed out.

“That’s no fun!” Rayla objected light heartedly.

“There will be time to show off later.” Francis assured. “How’s your hand?”

“Better, still a little stiff.” Rayla replied.

“Okay, I know you won’t listen to me, but don’t push yourself too hard. Take a break when you need it and take things at your own pace.” Francis placed a hand on her shoulder in a friendly gesture. “I promise I won’t scold you for it and no one will judge you here.”

Rayla was a little taken aback by those comments. Runnan never said anything like that. There was a bar that always had to be met, no matter the state. There were never any leeways.

“Are you trying to go easy on me? I took you for a man with high demands.” Rayla challenged. She did remember how Francis didn’t even break a sweat yesterday as they sparred.

“Trust me, if I went full out on you, I would hurt you and that would defeat the purpose.” Francis replied unfazed. “Besides, I trust and know you enough that you’re highly demanding yourself and that you won’t slack, hence the reason why I acknowledged that you wouldn’t listen to me. Ethari, like the proud father he is, did tell me plenty of your training stories with Runnan. You were raised well.”

Rayla was reminded again that Francis knew about her and her foster parents. There was some sense of truth, but she never thought he would be this praising. He already praised her more in the time they met, than Runnan across her entire life time. She thought that neither approaches were necessarily a bad thing, Francis was just never afraid to show it or say it and Rayla wasn’t used to praising.

“Alright, let’s dance then.” Francis finally signalled.

* * *

This sparring was no different to the previous ones. Francis yet again displayed the reason why people referred to him as The Disarming Master. He elegantly parried and blocked her advances and with a few masterful strokes was able to disarm her. Again. And again. And again. Not this time… she did get floored though.

Francis ordered her to take a water break and while she drank, he took a sip and went back again to their sparring ground. He shut off everything around him as he reimagined the previous rounds in his head, meticulously analysing everything frame by frame: the movement of limbs, breathing, eye movement, the wind, the position of the fighters relative to the surrounding environment and so on. He always reflected after every single encounter, and sparring sessions were no different. He finally pinpointed that it were Rayla’s eyes that was a massive tell, as they hovered around his right shoulder whenever she struck from her left. She relied too much on her speed and agility and she was too direct. After a few times it became painfully obvious what her course of action was going to be. She by far excelled most in her offensive movement, but she needed to think about her positioning more if she wanted to be much more efficient. In fact when relaying this information back to her Francis urged her to expand the fighting arena further and use the environment to her advantage more than she was.

Rayla wasn’t the best of listeners, she was an elf of action, but she definitely looked keen, so Francis always kept his feedback short. He could understand that slight impatience caused from exciting anticipation, since he himself was an extremely energetic person looking for outlets to his exuberant energy. Even when they were supposed to be relaxing yesterday, the longest Francis managed to not think about the future plans and problems was an hour. He constantly looked for a new challenge to beat and couldn’t sit still without doing anything.

A few more rounds later, Francis could sense a rising sense of frustration from Rayla. He couldn’t deny the tension in her shoulders, the steely look in her eyes, how her ears dropped and how silent she was during breaks. It was a good thing that this elf hated losing, but there was more than just the simple fact of defeat. She was annoyed by two things. Firstly, she wasn’t challenging him as much as she wanted to. Secondly, he didn’t he try his all. Francis could see his past self in her, as he sometimes wished when an adult would just show the full extent of his powers even if it would annihilate him. After all, he was taught in the Moon Meadows that in Moonshadow elf sparring the fighters never held back, even if they used real weapons… he had a few scars to back that statement up.

Francis however hesitated. Rayla was less confident when defending, meaning that all he had to was to force her to be on the back foot and close the distance as much as possible. That would be enough to expose her weakest part of swordsmanship. Francis knew that he had many tricks in his possession that would be plain unconventional for Moonshadow elves. They rarely threw punches, remaining devout to their weapons. He wasn’t planning on hurting Rayla, it would defeat the purpose of the sparring session. Besides she needed to improve her offensive strategy against a human, which was going to be her most likely course of action and opponent before they would reach Eastern Xadia, so he should be focused on keeping it as realistic as possible. But then just maybe he could indulge her once to make her less frustrated.

Despite Francis treating her with respect and consideration, she probably still felt too small in comparison to him. There was a gap between their ability levels, but Francis didn’t want her to feel daunted or belittled, it was a fine line to tread in order to keep her happy. Francis thought for a second if there was something else tugging at her strings that caused her strain? She looked distracted as a question seemed to be hovering on her lips and Francis needed to keep her on her toes. There was no relaxing around him when a job was in progress! He swung the blade without warning and Rayla back flipped away just in time.

“Good reactions!” Francis said firmly and genuinely. Rayla stared back at him, usually he would give a signal before the start of the round.

“Are you going to try your all this time?” She finally voiced the question that was on her lips for a while now. Francis didn’t reply and Rayla was left guessing.

“Hey look, we have an audience!” Francis looked and gestured to the side and Rayla followed his gaze. It was true, the princes had woken up and were watching their sparring session… but her eyes weren’t on Francis. She noticed too late as he was already charging at her and as Rayla tried to duck out of the way, she was clipped in the shoulder. She fell to the side but flipped herself upwards before Francis could disarm her. He began to smoothly hop from side to side, flipping his sword confidently from one hand to the other. His shoulders slithered in the direction of his body movement, as he leant forward. His back also arched forwards and he ducked his head. He looked like a viper ready to pounce on its victim… but this was also Francis.

“Good morning, Callum and Ezran! Are you doing well?” He said keeping his narrow scanning eyes on Rayla. She jumped to the tree putting quite a bit of distance between them. He did tell her about using the environment around her and there was no way he would climb up after her. She was caught completely off guard, so she needed to give herself time to come up with a plan. In truth, she was also slightly intimidated by his body language… the hair and the eyes weren’t helping either.

“Yes.” They replied, gasping at Rayla’s agility and Francis’s elegance.

“What are you two gossiping about?” Francis never glanced at them, as Rayla could feel his eyes scrutinising thoroughly all over her body. She waited for him to make the first move, hoping he would make a mistake.

“Just betting how long it will take for Rayla to get beaten.” Ezran chimed innocently. Rayla felt a little insulted and wanted to say as much, but Francis intervened.

“That is very rude. Not only I disapprove of gambling, but I’m far more displeased that you have so little faith in Rayla. She’s a very capable warrior and would appreciate your support.” Rayla felt a warm flutter of gratitude run through her. It was very nice to be supported and acknowledged.

“Come on Rayla, you can _definitely_ do this!” Ezran piped up, even if it wasn’t entirely honest… at least he tried. She noticed that Francis fixed Ezran with a displeased stare… his eyes weren’t on her. She took her chance. She ran down the bark at Francis, but before she reached him, Francis lunged at her. With a series of few quick strikes, Rayla found herself losing balance. It made sense to her why he kept her at a distance before, he was very strong and an absolute menace when he was this close and personal during a fight, making him an unstoppable force. His incredibly muscly upper body and legs made him impossible to be pushed around, making him simultaneously an immovable object... and yet he still possessed grace and elegance.

Rayla was on the verge of falling backwards as she resigned herself to another defeat… but suddenly Francis’s fingers darted to her side… and he began to tickle her.

“Ah, no, stop!” She dropped her blades, giggling uncontrollably and finally fell. “I hate myself for giving away that information when you joined me and Ezran in tickling Callum. Only Callum was supposed to be tickled, not all three of us!”

“You tipped me off earlier than that. I had my hunch ever since the wisps.” He waited for Rayla to catch her breath.

“Do you always find a joke in everything?” Rayla finally spoke more cheerily, clearly the previous frustration was vented out through that round.

“Yep, I’ve been through so many grave situations, that I can’t take them as seriously when they come around for the second time.” Francis chirped, only half-joking. “I just know I’ll be okay and everything is better with a smile on your face.”

“How am I supposed to find a positive, let alone a joke, in the fact that you tickled me to win this round?” She asked intrigued to hear his response.

“It could have been worse, that wasn’t my all since I didn’t land a punch and instead tickled you, but you just got a taster of what happens if I do go full out.” Francis said.

“I’m still not satisfied with that demonstration, you still held back.” Rayla half-mocked, half-protested.

“I can demonstrate that if we get in a real fight with someone else.” Francis said dryly. “I can build it up by slowly adding more and more unconventional techniques for Moonshadow elves, but at the moment I still need to keep an equal ground for you.”

“I guess I will have to use my Moonshadow form to equal the playing field and have a real chance!” She challenged with a mischievous smile on her face.

“That would be interesting.” Francis chuckled. “I can’t say I’ve done that. I don’t have a death wish and I don’t plan on doing that, I’m not mad. We could try it though.” Rayla looked very pleased at the prospect of fighting Francis during the full moon.

He offered his hand to pull her up, reminding of a question she had for a long time. “I’ve been meaning to ask, what are those straight scars you have on your palms?”

“It’s a little unbelievable to tell out right.” Francis gave a slick, secretive smirk, shrouded in mystery. “Let’s just say you’ll find out one day during a fight.”

“Well, since it’s impossible to change your mind, I guess I’ll have to die before I’ll find out.” Rayla teased, then continued more curiously. “I still don’t get how and why are you so good? Not a single Moonshadow elf, that doesn’t know you, would believe a human soldier can be this good!”

“Because I found swordsmanship interesting, and then I was forcibly drilled.” Francis admitted sincerely. “Also I’ve travelled across the entire Xadia and studied a platitude of techniques for four years, perfecting it! Why do you think I’m so adaptable and versatile? What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger!”

“Callum is right.” She said with a small smile, trying to make him stammer. “You really are something, aren’t you?”

“I mean, I’d like to think that I’m unique, nothing too special.” Francis began modestly. “We are all doing something special! You really are something too and so is Callum and Ezran, especially Ezran. Speaking of him,” he turned to look at the chatty Ezran, whose gleeful smile shone like the midday sun. “He may be quite wise for an eight year old, but he’s still a mischievous nosey little bugger!”

“Absolutely not, I’ve done nothing wrong!” Ezran raised his hands up.

“I know you’ve been snooping around my backpack.” Francis said confidently.

“Ummm,” Ezran elongated, clearly he just got caught out.

“Looking for my sweet sugary fruit stash?” Francis nailed the point home.

“Intellectual curiosity?” Ezran deflected. Clearly some of Francis’s vocabulary lessons went into him.

“What does that mean?” Francis tested Ezran’s knowledge.

“‘Curiosity’?” He looked at Francis hopefully.

“No, ‘intellectual’,” Francis replied. Ezran screwed his face in an intense search. “Come on, I only told you yesterday.”

“Something related to intellect, cleverness…?” Ezran said unsure of himself.

“Aha,” Francis said dryly, though unable to hold back a pleased smirk. “Now next time, just ask. Some of these books you aren’t ready to read yet.”

“Like that diary of yours?”

“I don’t have a diary.” Francis looked confused.

“Yes, you do!” Ezran claimed.

Francis paused, then realised what Ezran must have been talking about. It was an interesting book, one that he ought to explore the statements of, due to their very plausible and rare nature. However right now, there were more pressing issues. “Yes, but it’s not mine.”

“I didn’t take you for a guy who writes diaries.” Rayla teased.

“You’re right, I don’t.” Francis replied seriously.

“Yes, you do. You’ve had your ears and eyes deep in it, ever since Zym was born!” Ezran accused.

“Yeah, but have you seen me write in it?”

“Actually…” Ezran raised a finger, as he recollected his memory. “… no.”

“Right, because I don’t write it. I’m reading it. Now, don’t go rummaging in my stuff.”

“Mine too!” Rayla added.

“And by the way, Bait is your responsibility!” Francis fixed the glowtoad with a steely stare.

“Why?” Ezran asked.

“Because he’s your pet and if he goes through my stuff…”

“…or mine!” Rayla jumped in at the opportunity, remembering the incident in the mountains.

“Then I’ll be having words with you, because you’re the one who encouraged it!” Francis heard many times from Callum and King Harrow about Ez’s famous jelly tart heists in which Bait played a key part.

“Why don’t you just talk to him?” Ezran asked, looking like that ability was a common thing amongst people.

“We need to put your talents to good practice and use, you should be setting an example.” Francis smiled at the innocence of the boy. “Besides that little toad stares with his constantly grumpy and judging eyes deeply into my soul, burning it on the inside,” he went back to resume his training, then added quietly more to himself in the end. “… kind of like my mother does.” Rayla tensed as she felt a beat pass, but Francis returned to normal as he gauged her stance and then readied for another round. “Now make sure you don’t get distracted or fall for another trick of mine… and keep your feet a few more degrees apart.”

The round went better, she definitely held on for longer. Callum didn’t lie when he claimed he was the best warrior across The Human Kingdoms. He would hold his own against Runnan, if not win and she never knew anyone better than Runnan. Francis was patient and encouraging with her. He pushed her towards a certain direction of a more cautious and methodical approach to a fight, but he gave her the freedom to try out things in her own way. It felt really nice and refreshing, since she was mostly pushed unconditionally towards certain standards. Here she was allowed to explore what worked for her. She was also excited to test his ability during the full moon, when she would be at the peak of her powers. It would be interesting to see how Callum’s idol would last.

She looked to the side… but Callum was off further away, his back turned to them, looking like he was writing something.

“Ready?” She just about heard Francis and turned back to him. Her face must have looked downcast enough to stand out from her previous excitement. Francis recognised that she was looking in Callum’s direction. His lips quirked upwards, it wasn’t the first time he noted that Rayla seemed more energetic whenever they sparred in front of Callum. She almost looked disappointed. In fact, Francis felt awfully relatable to how oblivious Callum was to Rayla’s fondness. It infuriated him how embarrassingly familiar that behaviour was, looking in hindsight. Francis narrowed his eyes at Callum’s back, as he intently listened.

“Is he narrating his own letter he’s writing?” Francis asked and when Rayla nodded, he gave her a small smirk. “He is yours.” Rayla’s eyes brightened, she knew what he meant by that. They both snuck up on an unsuspecting and totally oblivious Callum, who got quite into his letter and narration.

“We’ve been travelling with a couple of very good friends, Francis and Rayla.” Callum spoke whilst writing. “Well, you know Francis and frankly we’re extremely lucky to have met him. Rayla is a Moonshadow elf… nothing I believed about elves is true. Rayla is kind and good. She’s fearless, fast and strong…”

“…and daring. Oh, so daring!” Rayla interrupted. Callum jolted upwards.

“Hey, have you been standing there the whole time?” Callum asked, a little flustered.

“Both of us!” Francis joined in, also making Callum jump. “But only at the part where you’ve been praising us.” Francis nudged a giggling Rayla offering her an open palmed hand. She gave him a low four… low four-and-a-half?

“I have a bad feeling that your pranks and teasing combined will be the death of me.” Callum screwed his face in an attempt to feign displeasure and annoyance.

“Don’t let us interrupt.” Rayla scoffed, then continued cheerfully. “You were just looking for another good word to describe me? Well, I do consider myself quite daring.” She puffed out her chest and raised her hand to it, looking pompous.

“Quite?” Callum asked sceptically. “Well, I’ll make sure to tell my step-dad, how ‘quite daring’ you are.” Rayla tensed incredibly, but Callum was too oblivious as he went back to writing his letter.

“You’re writing a letter… to the King?” She asked, naively hoping that Callum had some other step-dad.

Unfortunately for her, Callum nodded. “He’ll be worried about us.” He explained. “It would mean a lot to let him know why we’ve left and that we’re doing great.”

Rayla was unable to look at Callum, her focus shifted to Francis. He shrugged at her, then pointed at himself, as though as he was offering. Rayla shook her head, she promised that she would be the one to break the news. Francis’s words came flooding back to her… she already waited long enough that the idea of hurting Callum hurt her. Just how devastating it would be for him? How crushed Callum would be that the person he wrote that letter to would never ever see it?

* * *

Francis was constantly reminded of difficult things, difficult fights still to come: dark forces were pursuing them, the princes didn’t know of their father’s fate and Rayla struggled with telling them that, the dragon needed to be taken care off... it was all piling up. Yesterday had been refreshing for everyone – they took a break. Francis could have kept going, but not the kids. Though he did feel much sharper when it came to reflecting and juggling many of the problems coming up. It would have been nice to get a hand from one of his friends, but they had a lot on their plate and they needed to focus on themselves at the moment.

Francis produced the food from his own stash, politely refusing Lujanne’s breakfast, knowing full well that she was a Moonshadow Mage. His distrust was proven right when she revealed to the kids that they were actually eating grubs instead of what appeared to be a proper breakfast. It was a shame Rayla wasn’t there to see the reactions on their faces, since she joined late. She would’ve certainly died of laughter.

He phased in and out of conversations as he kept up a tactful pose, which covered his absent attention, with his mind deep in thought. He gathered from a few conversations that did grab his attention that Lujanne was a little kooky, to say the least. Francis was quirky, but at the very least he was glad that spending four years travelling mostly on his own, didn’t get him to become someone like Lujanne. He did however realise that he became a little more touchy than he used to: more hugs and shoulder taps and everything. At the very least, he didn’t have a Moon Phoenix pet that he named Phoenix-Phoenix or Phoe-Phoe for short. Frankly, she was only good in smaller dosages.

There was one very amusing instance where Lujanne pointed out that he had white strands in his hair, saying that his illusion pendant must have been wearing off. It did however remind him of how awful his hair looked in the mirror when he went to his sleeping quarters. It was not only a nuisance to him as the hair sometimes restricted his vision but it was also a nuisance to look at. It made him look a little too unhinged, too crazy. After denial ensued Lujanne was certain that he was an elf and Francis may have been touched to be compared or even called an elf, but he wasn’t ashamed of his humanity. It was still a crucial part of him.

The breakfast got a little bit further carried away when he and Lujanne had a couple debates and conversations about Eastern Xadia, Moonshadow elf traditions and the Moon Nexus. Neither Callum nor Rayla understood what they said, although the latter perked up about culture, clearly their past conversation surfacing up, while the former looked very intrigued about the Moon Nexus. They stopped after a while, when both of them realised no one else spoke for quite some time now, as they stared blankly and wide eyed at them.

“Are you sure you’re not a Moonshadow elf?” Lujanne asked.

“Last time I checked I wasn’t.” Francis demonstratively looked at his hands, then felt his ears and head. “And I checked just now, I’m still not.”

“Wow,” Ezran uttered. “I did not understand a single word of what you just said, but it has been so fun!” Francis saddened that he needed to break Ezran’s excitement with the fact that they needed to move out today, but Rayla got ahead of him… and didn’t exactly put it lightly.

“Good! It’s time to go!” Very straight to the point; direct and blunt just as she was during a battle.

“But we’ve only been here for two days!” Callum protested.

“Two days too many, if I’m honest.” Francis said dryly. “We got our day of rest, you don’t need a second one as well.”

“And danger is coming, I can feel it!” Rayla pointed out.

“That too.” Francis confirmed. “We can’t stay too long, war is looming over us and Zym needs to get back home to his mother.”

“So that’s settled then, we’re off!” Rayla jumped to a conclusion.

“But Zym’s so small,” Ezran whined. “He still needs to learn how to fly.”

“You could teach him.” Lujanne offered, undermining what Francis and Rayla were trying to get at. “You seem to have a special connection with the dragonling.”

“Me? I could try.” Ezran took on the challenge. Francis hid a frown behind his very blank and unreadable face.

“I was hoping to learn some Moon Magic, that conversation you had with Francis about the Moon Nexus was very interesting to listen to.” Callum said, fidgeting with his thumbs for some reason. Francis felt really hot around his face right now. That obnoxiously familiar passion was disguised by Callum’s giddiness. Were his own words about to be used against him, as they brought further delay to their travels?

“I can show you around.” Lujanne said. Great, there were more things slowing them down now. Francis kept his displeased state hidden, but Rayla pretty much voiced them anyway, dropping the need to cover them.

“I thought you were on my side?” She looked at Lujanne who shrugged her shoulders.

“A few days is all we’re asking.” Callum pleaded.

“One!” Francis and Rayla both said firmly at the same time, their eyes connecting in mild surprise after they spoke. “We’re leaving tomorrow morning.” Francis added.

“So you just got today.” Rayla pointed out the obvious. Callum and Ezran couldn’t quite contain a victorious smile.

“Well, let’s start now.” Lujanne got back up and beckoned Callum to follow her, while Ezran, Ellis and Ava went to do their thing with Zym. Leaving a not too pleased Francis and a disgruntled Rayla on their own.

“Oh, can’t we stay a bit longer so I can learn some magic tricks?” Rayla began mockingly animating Callum’s fidgety fingers and him scratching at the nape of the neck. “Oh, I want to play around with the wee dragon.” She then scoffed. “Humans! Only the noble elf cares about keeping us all alive, apparently.”

“Welcome to my world, Rayla. It has been like that ever since I joined you.” Francis humoured. “That Moonshadow Mage is of no real help either.”

“Oh, I guess you care too.” Rayla teased, but Francis didn’t react. “Is it just me who has a bad feeling about this?”

“I do too, we should be cautious. Those wisps didn’t look natural to me, but hey, Callum and Ezran are doing things that may end up important later.”

“We should stay on our toes… while Zym should try to get off of them.” Rayla humoured trying to cheer herself up.

“A perimeter check it is then,” Francis nodded smirking. “Two warriors of the team keeping the kids all safe.” He produced a fist for a fist pump. “You do remember what I said to Callum about high fives? What do you think is going to happen with this one?”

“Right,” Rayla rolled her eyes, as she was going to indulge him anyway. While everyone was having fun, only the noble elf… and human, ensured everyone else continued to have their fun.

* * *

It was alarming that Lord Viren was not seen since last night. Some of the guards reported him visiting the Crow Master, who looked like he was left shaken by the meeting. That in it of itself was a troubling sign, one that Marcos would have to report later to General Amaya. For now he found himself going down the busy streets of Katolis, with a bag full of paperwork and reports slung over his shoulder. He was excused for a few hours to visit Francis’s family and confirm to them the biggest gossip that swept across the entirety of the Pentarchy.

Through the bustling crowd, he headed down the square and after a few minutes’ walk he arrived at a luxurious three-story building. It stood out across the much more modest houses. It was enveloped in white marble with a few green stripes across the columns. The main doors were made of black wood and had the family’s insignia, the golden letter G, above the entrance.

Marcos hadn’t seen Francis’s parents in four years and knowing that not everything was smooth with them, it left Marcos uneasy. He had a strange feeling down in his stomach, but he chose to ignore it for now as he knocked on the door. He waited for a little while, before he heard slow unhurried footsteps.

“Didn’t we say to leave us alone?” A cold and irritated voice greeted him, as a woman’s face perked around the opening. Her face expression was terse, but went a little unreadable as soon as she saw him. “Oh, Marcos, right?”

“Good morning, Lily.” Marcos said.

“ _Lady_ Lily,” she corrected harshly. “Don’t you forget which house I’m from!”

“Lady Lily, I apologise.” Marcos hid his frustrations. They knew him through Francis, but this was rather an unusual reminder of their family’s name. Francis never bore it lightly, but he himself never insisted to be referred so formally… and neither did his parents before. “Is your husband home?”

“What’s your business?” She continued impatiently.

“I’m about Francis,” Marcos said feeling agitated. Her hand jerked back towards the door almost wanting to slam it shut in his face… but she stopped her impulse.

“We’ve had visitors already… and no, we haven’t seen him nor know anything about him. Since someone saw him in the dark, they probably mistaken him for a weary traveller.” She said firmly, intending to end the conversation and send him away. Marcos’s father knew Francis well, there was no way he could have mistaken him… and in reality he didn’t make a mistake.

“I assure you, this isn’t me asking questions.” Marcos said quickly. “I’m in fact here to inform you about him, which is why I wanted to ask for your husband’s presence.”

“I’m here.” He appeared as Lady Lily opened her door wider to reveal an unremarkable figure of her husband, Victor, who looked extremely blank.

“Well, speak.” Lady Lily ordered.

“I wanted to inform you that all the gossip is true.” Marcos said with a huge strain in his shoulders. Clearly this was what his gut feeling was warning him about. “Francis is alive and well. I’ve seen him.” Marcos stopped himself from saying anymore. While Victor’s face didn’t change and remained as blank as ever, Lady Lily’s jaw clenched as her eyes narrowed at him, analysing him carefully. It gave Marcos a familiar feeling, Francis did that every single time he regarded something with deep thought. It would’ve been a warm feeling, but given the context, he felt taut and irked.

“Oh? So he is alive?” She asked dryly, almost emotionless.

“Naturally, yes.” Marcos said airily, letting a little of his displeasure break through.

“We’re glad for him.” Victor said blankly and neutrally.

Marcos was appalled by their lack of a reaction, but he held himself as best as he could. He wanted to speak against this, but just like previously with Viren, that would lead to nowhere. Francis was hailed a hero for his tournament performances and became somewhat of a folk legend already for his vigilante-esque work, while he was in the Human Kingdoms. Yet Marcos sensed that the mere fact that Francis left was a sour point for his parents. He pitied their blindness. He didn’t know it was that bad between Francis and his parents, no wonder he loved his grandmother so much. He was somewhat relieved he went to Lydia’s house second, he would have hated to return to work on such a bad note.

“Is that everything?” Lady Lily asked discourteously, after an elongated pause.

“Yes,” Marcos really held back and his curt response was a hint of that. Victor turned away clearly disinterested in anything else to do with him. Lady Lily however remained staring at him.

“Where are you going now?” She interrogated and Marcos knew too well to tell her the truth. After all, the tense relationship didn’t stop at Francis, but it continued to the very person Francis prised in his life.

“Back to the castle.” He managed inconspicuously. She eyed him for a few more seconds.

“Great, I need you to deliver a letter to Lord Viren regarding the next important event coming up.” Lady Lily said self-importantly, then disappeared to get the letter.

Marcos felt a massive urge to leave right now. Their son was alive but all they cared about is being present at an upcoming ball or some other important event where nobles would be present. They cared more about their self-image than the fact that their son was alive and well. In fact, their reaction was so bitter he wondered if they hated the fact that he was alive. It was like they wanted Francis to cease to exist, ashamed that he was part of their family. Perhaps in their eyes he wasn’t anymore, hence why now they put so much emphasis into formal titles.

“Victor,” Marcos heard Lady Lily snap, her shout screeched painfully in Marcos’s ear. “How many times did I tell you to get rid of the letters that those commoners gave to us?”

“But they’re about Francis, maybe we should…” he heard Victor’s sheepish response.

“I don’t care, throw them out already! I even left them by the stand near the entrance for you!” There was his chance. He couldn’t stand this injustice in his eyes, but he also couldn’t convince nor force them to change. There was one person who would find the people’s gesture touching. Marcos carefully looked at the entrance hall and immediately spotted the stand with half a dozen letters at least, all looking without a proper seal. He quickly stuffed them into his reports bag, and returned back where he stood. He waited patiently until Lady Lily finally returned and handed him the letter.

“There.” She said in an irritated manner. She thankfully didn’t notice the letters missing. “Now be gone, quick!” She shut the door, not giving Marcos a chance to respond. He turned sharply and wanted to depart as quickly as possible. He had a feeling that he would be watched, so he at first he headed back towards the castle before circling around to go towards the Southern outskirts of Katolis.

* * *

On his way, he tried his very best not to think about that encounter, but it was very difficult. He couldn’t fathom how Francis was their only son, considering the stark contrast in character and philosophy between him and his parents. There was also the fact that they didn’t seem to care about him. He wondered how he never noticed that when he was a kid. Thoughts for him sped things up and he already found himself in front of a cosy looking wooden house. It was grand compared to other outskirt houses, but it was far more modest than their main house. It was painted green and unlike the other house this one didn’t have any indication that it belonged to a very famous family, since it was missing the insignia. Marcos made sure that he looked presentable and knocked on the door. A very familiar face greeted him.

“Marcos?” Lydia’s eyes brightened up and crinkled at the corners.

“Lady Lydia.” Marcos greeted, only for her to lightly scoff at him.

“Marcos, there is no need for that,” she said with a silky warmth in her voice, that reminded him of his encounter with Francis at the Banther Lodge. “If I knew you were coming, I would have made lunch. Please come in.”

“Oh, no it’s fine…” but Marcos was cut off.

“I insist and you’re not rejecting a cup of tea once I brew it, understood? A good friend of my son… er, my grandson is always welcome here and I would be a poor host for not treating you well.” Lydia spoke merrily. Marcos gave in and walked in. He was offered a seat at the table and after a few minutes Lydia produced a silver platter on which she served him some fresh fruits, sweets and tea. She was so kind and caring to him that he almost forgot the real reason he came here for and that he was time constricted.

“I can’t be here for too long, Lady Lydia.” Marcos began.

“Marcos, how many times am I going to tell you to drop the formalities?” She scowled him lightly.

“Sorry, Lydia. I’m here about Francis.” Marcos watched her go still for a split second.

“I haven’t heard anyone say anything about him in a while. Is he okay?” She asked, her hand hovered closely over her chest.

“Have you not heard the gossip?”

“It’s gossip, Marcos; it’s garbage taking unnecessary amount of space in our heads.” She said sagely. Marcos immediately saw where Francis got his sagely tones and tendencies from. Now that Marcos was more mature, it was so easy to see why Francis was so close to his grandmother.

“There have been claims that he was sighted in Katolis a few days ago,” Marcos began. Her breath shuddered when she heard him say it. “I can confirm that he was. I saw and talked to him.” He finished. Marcos saw her eyes brighten and well up in tears, her gaze so soft and caring.

“How is he? Is he healthy? Has he been eating well? Is he in good condition?” The question flooded towards him.

“He’s mighty fine and fit. It’s same old him, just a little more grown up.” He said with a fond nostalgic smile across his face.

“How does he look? How grown?” She pressed on.

“Well, his hair is a thick mess of wavy, straight and curly strands. He has a bristle and I wasn’t sure but I thought I saw a couple of grey hairs.” He said pensively.

“Oh, he still has a long way to go to me.” She waved at her hair with a fond smile on her face. “Where had he been?”

“Travelling in Xadia.” Marcos replied.

She looked at him, as if she wanted to say something… or maybe she was waiting for him to add something. After a short pause, there was a humouring spark in her eyes, as she went on.“Oh, I’m not surprised. He was fascinated with that place ever since he was a child, when we told him of legends and stories about it.” Lydia paused again. “Right now, if he was here, for starters he would correct you and say ‘Eastern Xadia’.”

“Yes, that’s right.” Marcos chuckled, realising why she paused earlier.

“I’m glad he did make it there and back out alive. He was always resolute in getting his way.” Lydia said in between the sips of her tea.

“Yeah,” Marcos replied reminiscing their late training sessions. Francis had helped him a lot to get to where he was now. He insisted to be his sparring partner during after-training hours, no matter the weather. “I forgot to mention that he still has his grandfather’s sword and cape.”

“I never doubted that.” She replied with a knowing smile. “Did you speak about anything?”

“We unfortunately didn’t get a long time to talk,” his shoulders slumped feeling regretful over that fact. “We had to help the princes and he went after them to ensure their safety.”

“Oh, he hasn’t changed at all, has he?” She rolled her eyes fondly. “He always cared about other people’s safety and happiness. No matter how much life took away from him, he always found gratification in other people’s successes.” Marcos sighed at that. Francis was better off compared to other children and families, but he had his more than a fair share of struggles and tragedies. Marcos heard Francis say many times before that he wished he got to know his grandfather more when he matured, to understand him more. Francis never really liked to share his pains and problems, hiding it behind his obsidian core. He fretted that others would worry too much about him, be distracted by things that were distinctly his. Who knows how much strife he went through without others even noticing? Lydia continued. “I hope he’s better now, because he used to very often take care of others at the expense of himself. In fact, he refuses to succeed whilst discarding others; he hates that. It is perhaps his greatest strength and maybe even weakness in some sense, but never to me.”

“He’s incredible, I’ve never met anyone quite like him.” Marcos confessed wistfully, knowing that deep down if Francis heard that, he would downplay it saying something that it was nothing too special, because all he did was simple decency and the right thing to do. Even in his head, Marcos shot Francis’s notion down, telling how admirable it was to do the things he did. Francis spent his entire life up against it and in constant competition, moral defiance and struggle: up against his parents, up against his peers, up against humanity, up against the world… all just to get it his way. He stood and fought for the right thing that he believed strongly, never stopping, always committing himself to the fullest.

Francis had lost a lot to get to where he was now and would lose even more to get to where he wanted to be. Despite all of that he was a winner. In spite of everything he was never defeated… even facing the steep odds of winning battles single-handedly, after being brutally beaten down. He always got up, kept going and never stopped, always doing better the next time. He weathered on; soldiered on and no one could stop him and tell him otherwise. He would defy the whole world if he had to, if he was right.

Marcos felt honoured to have simply met him, let alone be a friend of his… and he knew others appreciated his heroism too. “I’ve brought you something,” Marcos produced a stack of letters and placed them on the table, gently pushing them towards Lydia. “Those are letters from some common folk addressed to Francis, in the wake of gossip. I thought you might wanted to read them.” He saw Lydia gasp, her hand went over her mouth. Happy tears trickled slowly down her cheek. Marcos suddenly felt the room become far brighter than he remembered, as Lydia practically shone with pride and happiness. At least it became far clearer to him why Francis’s aura was sometimes so expressive. Lydia suddenly gave Marcos a pensive look.

“Did you get those letters from our main residence?” She deduced. Marcos wished that it wouldn’t get brought up, he really didn’t want her to falter… but he couldn’t bring himself to lying either.

“Yes.” Marcos saw a saddened shadow glance over her face, but her moment wasn’t fully deterred.

“I don’t understand how my daughter nor any of my children became so unfeeling,” she said heavily. “I raised them to be kind and loving and caring, but it’s like they forgot what any of that means… just like most of the world has. I really hope Francis, my shining beacon of pride, never ends up like that.” Marcos’s heart broke a little at her sentiment. He wondered how drastically different things would have been if Francis followed his parents’ and nobles’ wishes and commands. So many good things wouldn’t have happened and they certainly wouldn’t have been friends, if Francis hadn’t chosen to forge his own path under the guidance of his wise grandmother.

Marcos sighed, he unfortunately had to come back to the castle. However before he left, Lydia insisted that they both read the first letter. After spending a while deciphering the hand writing, Lydia nearly broke into heartfelt tears, touched by the contents of the letter.

> _I’m not sure if you remember me. You asked my name, but with how many people you’ve helped since, I don’t suspect you would… and I don’t really mind, that’s not important, for the names of Hope and Frankie are what matter. When I was ambushed by those savage banthers in the woods nearly four years ago on my way to my soon-to-become wife, I thought I would never again get to hear her laughter or see her being so blissfully happy. You saved my life and I was so thankful for it, but now I fully realise how really thankful I am to you for giving me a chance to give life to two more people. My wife and I are so blessed to have such beautiful children and by saving me, you’ve saved my wife’s life and gave life to my two children. I don’t know how I can ever repay you, but perhaps if I’m lucky to ever meet you again I will make sure I have something._

Marcos waved his goodbye to Lydia, who insisted that he shouldn’t be afraid to visit her again. He still couldn’t shake off what he had read. How much Francis’s so-called ‘little and not too special’ actions mattered and had a profound impact on those he touched in his life. If only he could see the full extent of his kindness, how much good it really did. The smallest of things could sometimes have the most profound of impacts.

* * *

The insatiable dose of excitement was wearing off, as Callum could feel the question surfacing on the back of his mind…

In reality he had many questions. One of them was if Lujanne had been real all this time. She had assured that she was, but after the whole grub trick during breakfast, Callum was wary of possibilities. He remained calm and patient though; this was still beyond cool. She showed him the archaic ruins of what used to be a Moonhenge, destroyed by Moon druids when Xadia was split in two. Its weathered and eroded stones stood upright and still possessed an outcry of history as nebulous Moon symbols were still etched in them.

“ _Historia Viventem_.” He saw Lujanne draw the rune. The whole place became a nightly shade of blue, as luminous figures of Rayla’s and Lujanne’s brethren appeared. Impalpable columns erected from the previously mentioned stones congregating at the top, forming a dome. The elves danced, as part of their ritual that Lujanne didn’t explain fully. She only mentioned an imponderable phrase ‘a portal to a shimmering world beyond life and death’.

The question prickled at Callum; he sighed it away.

The Nexus was the purest and most powerful place of Primal Energy in the world, each source had one. The Moon druids extracted the power of The Moon Nexus for the Moonhenge during their rituals. Lujanne explained that she as the guardian of the Moon Nexus protected it from human discovery and Callum, a human, was led right towards it. It was a lake at the bottom of a caldera, the blinding light of the sun reflected into Callum’s face. Lujanne painted him a picture in his mind, the lake becoming a moon once it was full. It would reflecting the moon’s shine perfectly back – a moon in the sky and a moon on the ground. He loved it, it was fascinating!

… but the question was burning in his mind now.

“I love learning the history of magic!” He said genuinely, afraid to sound disrespectful. “But I wanted you to teach me to do some Moon Magic.”

The question dropped from his mouth and her response was like a kick in the teeth. “Humans can’t do magic.” Callum stiffened. No moon beams… rays… shines? He can do none of those?

“But I did do magic,” he clung onto a cliff named hope.

“Right, with a Primal Stone.” A stab into his chest. “But then you smashed it, so now you’re just a standard human again.”

He slipped… fell off the cliff into the depths of despair, the further the darker… dark…so dark. “But I know other humans who do magic,” he said weakly, mostly bracing for the impact of when the ground would inevitably hit him.

“Dark Magic is an atrocity, not a practice of magic!” He felt nauseated. He saved a life, but gave up on his dream… what he was good at… he gave up himself.

He collapsed on the ground, its impact sending a numb feeling in his spine. He was back by their dinner table, with the sun slowly setting over him. No one was there apart from Ezran and Zym… actually that wasn’t entirely true. He barged into Rayla on his way but he was so numb and defeated he hadn’t even noticed her. Callum wasn’t sure if he was in a perpetual circle. He saw Zym climbing a rock and jumping off of it, uselessly flapping his wings and landing on Ezran, knocking him down… but Ezran got back up again… Zym climbed back up that rock again. There was no stopping. He lost count how many times they jumped and fell down. They just simply got and went back up, without a hint of slowing down, without a hint of resignation.

_Neither am I. I’m never giving up! No, not me! Ezran and Zym aren’t! Rayla never gave up on us!_

_Francis never gave up his belief in the best outcome!_

His legs led him absentmindedly towards Lujanne’s meditation chamber and then he sat by its entrance, hands crossed… and waited… and waited. Repeating, all the same.

_It’s who I am. I’m a mage!_

He curled up against the door determinedly waving away the dark despair gnawing at his insides. He refused to lose the feeling of magic, the connection to it. He didn’t want to come back to the way things used to be. He kept denying the harsh cold reality as much and for as long as he could.

_It’s what’s right. It’s me! I am me! I am a mage!_

It was hours until Lujanne flew in with Phoe-Phoe and Callum hadn’t processed that the sun was already disappearing… already disappeared, a moon in its place now.

“I refuse to give up,” he blurted letting through some of the emotion that was building up. He didn’t give Lujanne a chance to speak. “Growing up, I was supposed to learn and be good at horseback riding, archery, battle tactics, sword fighting, but I was so bad at everything.”

“But then you didn’t give up,” she tried to sound encouraging, but there was a hint of exasperation in her sigh. “And you got good?”

“Well, no, I gave up those, but when I tried magic it felt right.” Callum eyed the beauty of Phoe-Phoe feeling somewhat jealous, but that jealousy would only grow.

“Then get ready to give that up too.” Lujanne said rather jarringly. Clearly spending a long time isolated had left her insensitive about the gravity of Callum’s strife. Callum held that mental punch and instead spilled everything that he held inside outwards.

“It felt like I was finally good at something. I will learn magic, it’s who I am.”

“I admire your determination,” Lujanne admitted, albeit a little forced. “But learning Primal Magic is not your destiny.”

“Why?!” He demanded.

“You weren’t born with a connection to a Primal Source.”

Callum felt defeat and darkness crawling back in at the mention of _Primal_ Source. He tried to cling onto something, prolonging his eventual reality. “Connection? What do you mean by that?” He felt himself tremble a little.

“In Xadia, all creatures are born connected to a Primal Source.” She waved her hand at herself and then at Phoe-Phoe. “A piece inside them, an Arcanum, that lights a spark that ignites our bodies with Primal Magic, allowing us to be part of it and ignite the world around us.”

“What’s an Arcanum?” He desperately prolonged.

“It’s like a secret or a meaning of the Primal.” She gestured with her hands, clearly enthused to talk about it.

Callum felt dismayed that he wasn’t able to do that, but he saw a chance, a way out, a shortcut. “What’s the Arcanum of the Moon Primal then?”

Lujanne looked caught out for a split second, as she looked at him quizzically. “It’s just… something I know. It’s not something easily put into words.” She explained, hoping to deter Callum, but he was being unusually stubborn.

“Well, try me,” he looked surprised at how it came out and then retreated a few steps back. “… please.”

“Very well,” she said. “The Arcanum of the Moon is about understanding the relationship between appearances and reality,” Callum felt someone tap on his shoulder and he turned around to see… Lujanne… but how? She was… “Most people believe that reality is truth and appearance is deceiving.” Callum thought he entered a delusional state, thinking his emotions were getting the better of him, as he witnessed Lujanne double… and there was also a third one behind him. He thought he was losing his mind. “But those of us who know the Moon Arcanum understand we can only truly know the appearance itself. You can never touch the so-called reality that lies just beyond the reach of your own perception.” Callum felt the irresistible urge to rub his eyes so that maybe this could stop. Yet, he was having the morbid desire for her to keep going, despite how his brain was at sixes and sevens… but it was too much, so his hand involuntary raised to his eyes. Once he opened them, everything seemed to be back to normal.

“I’m confused,” the resigning words escaped absentmindedly.

“I don’t blame you.” The next words hit him harder than the paws of a crazed starving Banther ever could. “After all, you’re only human.”

_… only human? I’m nothing…? I’m nothing._

Callum’s shoulders slumped as his flailing attempts to hang onto a sliver of hope finally proven to be useless. He hit that deep and dark ground harder than previously. Totally empty, a bitter numbness slowly spread across Callum’s body. He was left standing stunned as Lujanne entered her chamber. Hazily, he turned with heavy hollowness in his clumsy body, and trudged back, his foot dragging slower and slower across the stone path.

* * *

It was getting darker and Francis was on his own, doing another perimeter check. It would have been his last one before Rayla would do the last one of the day.

_Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap!_

The tapping began impatiently on his shoulders, hurrying him ahead. Just as expected, a pair of orange lights hinted across the forest, eyeing him up. He shook the hollowing thoughts away, rationalising with himself. He had to be patient, the journey was long and they weren’t irreplaceable or unbreakable. Instead he reflected, quite far back. He remembered his childhood moments. Those embarrassing, stupid moments in which he wished he acted better and different or maybe actually spotted or sensed the problem that was at hand. He couldn’t stop from slapping himself in the face at a couple of those memories. Francis was fairly glad to have developed the ability to go into deep thought, allowing time to pass quickly and block any white noise for an indefinite period of time… unless anything out of the ordinary happened... Francis tensed. He felt… something off – the wind, the shuffling of the leaves. He discovered that if he was concentrating deeply enough, then he would sometimes feel faint traces of auras… and right now he felt someone else’s presence.

“I know you’re here,” he spoke firmly into the forest. “Show yourself!” He considered brandishing his sword, but nothing about what he felt warned of aggression. He sighed, not particularly pleased to being forced to play _that_ card. “If you cannot see my face clearly and cannot make out my cape in the dark, know that I am Francis. I have no belligerent intentions!” Something shuffled in the bushes in front of him and a figure of a dark skinned man appeared. Teal scarf. Light on armour… practically none. Brown clothing – easy to blend in a forest. This man was definitely a tracker. He looked familiar to Francis.

“I don’t want to fight,” he raised his hands.

“I gathered that.” Francis responded dryly.

“I am Corvus,” he continued.

“Good evening, Corvus.” Francis said tactfully. “How did you get past the monsters?”

“With great difficulty,” Corvus admitted.

“Well, what are you doing here at this time of night?”

“That is confidential.”

“I’m afraid you gave too much away.” Francis pressed. “You’re the one who attacked our elf friend, Rayla.”

Corvus tensed at the word ‘friend’. “So she wasn’t lying?”

“Never had, and I don’t appreciate anyone laying a hand on my friends.” Francis warned. “So for your sake I’d recommend you tell me why you’re here.”

“I am a tracker, I was sent by…”

“… General Amaya, here to ensure the princes’ safety?”

“I guess I did give too much away.” Corvus’s shoulders dropped a little.

“I can reassure you that the kids, all three of them are safe with me.” Francis stated.

“All three?” Corvus stared at him wide eyed.

“Oh, I apologise for my misreckon, four actually. All four are safe.”

“Four?” Corvus’s eyes got astronomically bigger.

“Yes, me and the kids are transporting something valuable in a bid to prevent a full scale war across Xadia.” Francis explained quickly. “I unfortunately don’t have the time to fill you in on the details, however I do need your help.”

“General Amaya has always spoke highly of your honour and asceticism.” Corvus said thoughtfully. “Even though you disgraced yourself by running away and deserting your training.” Corvus didn’t look outright enraged as some nobles and soldiers were, from what Francis heard. In reality he looked rather split. Either way, Francis was in no mood to argue and explain himself.

“I believe your use of the word ‘asceticism’ is hyperbolic, to put it lightly.” Francis corrected. “I however would like to state that I’m not asking it for myself, but for the safety of the princes.”

Corvus instantly looked more interested and concerned. “I’m listening.”

“I have reasons to believe that there is something amiss that endangers the princes.” Francis said, but ultimately he believed and more accurately knew that it would affect his entire party. “I need you to survey the immediate forest area for any intruders, but not engage them unless the lives of the princes are threatened directly.” Francis laid out his demands. “Your presence is to be unknown for everyone apart from me.”

“Why do you need _me_ to survey and stay hidden?” Corvus inquired.

“Because you’re an extra pair of eyes and your presence will agitate the members of my team.” Francis replied calmly. “Also if my hunch is correct, I would like an element of surprise up my sleeve.”

“Is this definitely about the princes?” Corvus asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Absolutely,” Francis said forthright. “You have my word!”

“I am sceptical,” Corvus explained. “You and your word were always renowned to be reliant, but ever since you ran away…”

“I understand your uncertainty,” Francis sighed. He hoped that this wouldn’t become a reoccurring theme, if more humans were met. “I believed that I was being misled forcefully down a wrong path. I still stand by my decision and I have been honest with my intentions then and now with you. This is a precautionary measure, one that benefits your goal as well. I just want them all to be safe.” Corvus nodded contemplatively and agreed to meeting him tomorrow evening. Francis was somewhat relieved that he got Corvus to temporarily agree, although he was certain that he would do anything for the princes.

He was walking back to sleep for another night in a bed, a luxury he hadn’t experienced for a while on his journey. Francis remembered that there was a mirror in his room and that he had one last thing to do before getting his shut-eye.

The violet emitting Moonmoths illuminated his path back to his sleeping quarters, but he was unsettled at a sight of a slumped figure at the table. It was dark to say for certain, but the ferocious scribbling of a pencil on a paper gave the identity of the figure away… albeit this deduction made Francis more concerned. He always saw Callum draw light and gentle strokes across the paper, with the pencil’s tip rarely departing the paper. This time Callum’s pencil movements were jagged and brisk, angry and striking… it sounded messy, violent and shambolic. His pencil was going one way and then the next second in complete opposite direction – impulsive and chaotic.

“Callum?” Callum halted at the sound of his name, but he didn’t turn to face him.

“Hi,” he forced out of himself, all airy and dry. To say that he was upset would be a criminal understatement.

Francis needed to be extra careful with his words and required a degree of finesse. He sat beside him. “Drawing in such dark environment surely can’t be good for your eyes.” Francis said calmly, trying to ease into at first. Callum sulked, not responding at all. “You’re not good at keeping your feelings totally hidden.” Callum shuffled at those words, but still said nothing. Francis quickly glanced at what he was drawing. It was a series of sketches, all of different nature: The Primal Stone, The Cube that was on the table in front of them, Mage Callum… “What’s wrong?”

“I’m… nothing,” Callum muttered. He didn’t continue, perhaps unwilling to speak on the topic or maybe still unclear on it.

Francis made an attempt at cheering him up. “Hey, I’ve seen you drawing during that climb, you looked really happy with whatever you did. May I see it?” It got the intended effect. Callum’s lips twitched a little, but he flipped the pages and handed the sketchbook fairly reluctantly. “You even named it? ‘An Uphill Struggle’. This looks really good.” Francis smiled warmly at the picture. The boy listened to him and tried to be more expressive in his art. He certainly had talent and undeniable potential. His eyes flickered over the characters that were drawn: Ava, Ellis, Callum, Ezran, Rayla… “Wow, do I really look like that?” There was a jocund tone in his voice. “You make me look better than I actually am. I would almost be afraid to say that you make me look like a hero.”

“What?” Callum sounded shocked, it was for the first time his voice didn’t sound so airy and emotionless. He looked up into Francis’s eyes. “But you are a hero!”

“I’m no hero, I’m just a guy who wants the best for everyone.” Francis said nonchalantly.

“No! How can you say that?” Callum sounded a little angry, his emotions were breaking through, his breath picked up. “You are great! Amazing! Best warrior the Pentarchy ever had!”

“Callum, breathe! Control yourself!” Francis said firmly, but not unkindly.

Callum instead was still rambling on, his voice raising a little. “You’re this amazing warrior that everyone likes. You succeed at everything you try, not even sweating at any sort of expectations, never having any troubles with anything. Always confident, not even second-guessing anything. I can never be anything like that!”

This was a very troubling sign. Whatever the problem was, Francis had to wave Callum away from the wrong path. “Callum, you’re lost and misleading yourself further,” Francis tried to reason.

“I’m not lost. You have everything and yet keep telling me that you’re no one special. How can you question if you’re a good person? You have to give yourself some credit! You’re… perfect.” Callum stated.

Francis put both of his hands on his shoulders forcing him to face him. “Callum, don’t you dare! Don’t idealise me, I’m every bit as fallible as you are!” Francis said earnestly. He tapped Callum lightly on the face to break him out of his rant, forcing his green eyes to look at him. His head arched a little backwards to be able to look into Francis’s eyes. Once his breathing relaxed, Francis continued solemnly. “In fact, don’t idealise anyone, or you’ll end up disappointed at best and betrayed, manipulated and tossed aside at worst. Believe me I know, I’ve made those mistakes before.” He saw Callum’s eyes stare up at him in disbelief. Francis’s honesty was hitting him hard, but it was something that Callum needed to hear. “You think I’m confident? There is not a single day under the fire orange ball we call the sun, that goes by where I don’t second guess myself, question my actions, scrutinise myself. Why do you think I sometimes struggle to fall asleep? I process, I reflect what I did, frame by frame, millisecond by millisecond, not leaving a single stone unturned. There are not a lot of things I’m fully satisfied with, where I don’t second guess myself.” Francis swallowed, he had no problem being honest, but this was quite personal and something he hadn’t done in a while, if not at all… not in front of anyone that wasn’t Lydia. Was he ready to drop his guard? He was afraid to get hurt if his fondness and care were unrequited again. “There are two in my mind right now, where I haven’t second guessed even for a split second. First is joining you,” Francis deduced that Callum unknowingly yearned for recognition and appreciation, for someone to tell him that he was wanted and that he wasn’t as useless as he made himself out to be, for someone to show faith in him… oh why was that feeling so familiar to Francis? It was a feeling that used to accompany him back when he was a child. He took a deep breath. “Second is my belief that you can be just as good as you claim myself to be, if not better.” Callum flinched at those words and it made Francis feel very unpleasantly exposed. He really hoped he flinched because he was surprised. Francis really didn’t want to lose, disconnect or distance himself from Callum. Despite the unpleasant exposure, Francis didn’t look away… Callum’s wide eyes were still looking up at his. “I truly mean what I just said. You’re telling me to give myself more credit, but you should start giving yourself some credit too. You’re only human for wanting to be and do better and that’s an admirable thing.” Something about that struck Callum, his look went more pensive. “You’re a good person and I care about your wellbeing, which is why I’m having this conversation with you right now. I’m touched that you hold me in such high regard, but I’m not what you make me out to be. I’m not perfect. No one is.”

Callum was holding still, stunned. Every second of silence felt heavy on Francis’s shoulders. “I,” Callum finally spoke, his next words sounded more hesitant. “But… you were this perfect heroic warrior from a perfect family. You couldn’t have become what you are by making mistakes?”

“I was a mistake Callum! The world was never supposed to have me!” Francis said sorrowful and solemnly. Francis wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to tell him outright, but went through with it anyway. It was a perfect way to encapsulate the error of his notion. Francis managed to hide his shudder, as his childhood moments flooded back to him. The pain, the wounds, the bruises, the demands, the orange eyes… he had never felt so bare before in his life. “The only people who cared about me, loved me and wanted to live my life, were forced away from me: my grandfather passed away during his illness and my grandmother was separated away from me. I could only see her during weekends. I was given opportunities but never truly rewarded or recognised when I did well. I was forced to be and do things I never wanted. I was simply only a bragging tool in front of other families for my mother.” Francis held back a tremble in his voice, though it had gone softer. He took a deep breath. “Each day their expectations and demands increasing exponentially. I was forced to play a game I could never win. I had no one to turn to… but at least you have your brother constantly by your side, you have me, you have Rayla. You’re not on your own right now.” He smiled and looked softly at Callum. “There are things far worse out there, Callum. Sometimes we have to put on a face and move on, until we’re given private time and space to really reflect upon it and sometimes, when we’re really sure about it and it truly matters, we stand up for ourselves and our beliefs. You’re already a good and selfless person, Callum, and I’m not the only one who appreciates it. When I look at you, I sometimes feel like I’m looking in a mirror.” Callum’s breath hitched and Francis embraced him in a tight hug. “You can come to me whenever you want and I will listen to you always, Callum, but I can see you haven’t fully understood whatever it is that is happening to you. I urge you to go sleep on it; tomorrow’s a new day.”

Francis patted him on the shoulder and wished him a good night. He could guess what the problem was. The drawings were a massive giveaway and the way Callum idealised him gave him an idea that a lot of Callum’s strife stemmed from within him, perhaps his inadequacy. Francis had to take time and tread the waters carefully. Callum had to come to his own conclusions and Francis’s guidance could not ever be felt forced. Growing up and finding oneself were formidable struggles. Before he went to finish the day, he glanced sympathetically back at Callum one last time… his heart almost broke when he saw Callum clutching the unlit Cube close to his chest.

* * *

“Today is a special day, mystery mirror.” Viren proclaimed to his own reflection in the dungeon cell. “It is the day that you reveal your secrets to me.” This forsaken mirror that had tested all of his wit and creative capabilities, would finally fall. His elf prisoner was now replaced with the said mirror, candles and books and all that remained of his presence in the cell were the shackles. He pushed the massive pile of books that he dug out of the library, out of the way. This moment could not be squandered. They fell to the side on top of the other scrolls and texts that were fruitless in his research.

Since that Moonshadow elf knew the true nature of the mirror, Viren decided to chase up the idea that the mirror was of their origin. Thus, he obtained the true-sight serum, an inky viscous substance that would strip away any and all illusions. “I will see for who you truly are.”

He took a deep breath. This was going to be an unpleasant experience. He chanted the spell and saw the inky liquid bubble up, like it was boiling. With another deep breath, he hovered it over his eyes. There was a moment of indecision, a delay in the process. Before he could begin to contemplate any other ideas and delay any further, he forced a droplet into his eye. His iris burned producing purple smoke out of his eyes. He clenched his jaw suppressing a painful gasp, as his fingers clawed in response. He needed to get this over with and before his body was able to protest. His mind forced the hand to move and put his other eye through the same scorching fate. He began to lose control over his body. He shook his head around violently, as his body contorted, moving his hands in front of his face. The burn in his eyes was unforgiving and testing, a price he was willing to pay to find out the true nature of the mirror.

Once he regained control of his body and when it was feasible, he opened his eyes. He was greeted to fumy purplish hues of the objects around him, but he focused on the one that shone brightest – the mirror. Its frame glowed purple and his triumphantly beating heart managed to pick up even more pace as he tried to perceive the actual reflection. It was a tall, almost ravening shape of a man with a monstrous grimace. His fingers were clawed, his back hunched. Plumes of purple smoke emitted from his black hollow eyes. He was wearing the same grey clothes as Viren was… it was him, it was him in the mirror! Viren was yet again staring at his own reflection.

“Nothing? Nothing. Nothing!” He spewed words like molten lava, as he erupted at his own reflection. “Oh, you’re powerless, useless. I thought you were going to be something special, something important!” He watched his black eyes return to their former colour, reddened with pain. He shut his eyes, not deigning any more acknowledgement to his own pathetic reflection. He sighed, a moment of calm self-restraint… before screaming and storming the place around him, knocking anything over that dared to be in his proximity at the moment.

The candles went flying into the useless unwanted texts, scrolls and books, setting them alight, quickly enveloping the room into uncontrollable fire. Viren exhaled, grabbing hold of himself and then reluctantly stood straight, with his hands behind his back. As thought, the fire was a mere nuisance. He held his hand out behind him and clicked his fingers. And just like that, the fire settled in his outstretched palm and snuffed itself out. Viren was now in total darkness, defeated once again. He thought he would be the light that could lead the humans against Xadia, but he couldn’t even break this stupid mirror. What did he have to show for it? A dead king, three dead queens, a kingdom in weakness… nothing! Instead he was in _absolute_ darkness… but then the light came… from the mirror.

* * *

_That dirty elf is going to get what is coming to her._

Rayla suddenly felt heavy… all over. Her step… she couldn’t lift her feet… they dragged across the stone path. Her arms fell to the side… too heavy to be lifted. Her eyelids were beginning to close… nudging her to sleep. Her vision was becoming blurry. Her step swayed to the side, against a pillar… a pillow? It felt too comfortable… she could fall… asleep standing straight against that. She pushed herself on…ward. There was a strong enough smell that kept her awake for a little… bit longer. She awkwardly slumped towards it… trying her best to see if what she smelled… was really it.

_Just a few more seconds, this one is awfully resilient. At least the smell of the blue roses were going to be the last thing she remembers. Oh, how poetic. She fell asleep with a rose in her hand. What a nice last thing to ever remember. She does look cute in her sleep though!_

With the elf finally asleep, it was safe to stop playing the ocarina. She waved her brother to stop closing his ears, as they both approached a sleeping elf. Her brother drew his sword.

“Do it, Soren.”


	12. Unexpected Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The external forces turned out to be just Claudia and Soren searching for the princes. It was all good, they were Callum's and Ezran's friends after all. Despite good rapport with the princes, Rayla and Francis didn't trust them. Why were they truly here and was this really safe?

“What are you waiting for?” The female voice spoke, making Rayla more and more awake. “She’s an elf and she kidnapped the princes.” Well this was going to be annoying, another set of people who chased after them thinking she was a blood drinking monster who held the princes captive.

“I’ve just never attacked anyone who’s sleeping before.” The male voice spoke. “It doesn’t seem… sporting.”

“You want me to wake her?” The silence that followed must have meant that he agreed to that… well that was rather chivalrous of him. What a nice thing for a human to do. “And how long do you need her to be awake for it to be sporting?” Maybe Rayla shouldn’t have been so sarcastic when she thought about the man’s sudden goodhearted behaviour, against the backdrop of hatred that was his female partner.

“One second”… okay maybe Rayla was a little too quick to regret her sarcastic scepticism. Well, it had been entertaining to listen to whatever that was, but the man wasn’t going to get that second.

Rayla shot open her eyes, quickly gathering where the man’s feet were and swept them with her legs. The man fell on his back, his armour making a spectacular amount of noise. Rayla rose to her feet to stare at the two intruders, unimpressed.

“But how did you resist the sleeping spell?” The woman asked. Rayla protruded her chest and lifted the hand with the rose to her raised head.

“Oh I had the help of this lovely rose,” Rayla sniffed it, helping her to sharpen up just that little bit more. “It’s hard to sleep when there’s a thorn poking at you.” Rayla tossed the rose to the side, whipped out her swords and eyed the man who got back on his feet. She met his narrow eyes with a gritty stare of her own. The man began to flail his sword around him excessively in an audaciously pretentious demonstration. Rayla huffed, she never felt exasperation hit her so quickly before in her life. “Is this a talent show or are we going to fight?” Rayla asked.

The man stopped swinging his sword. “Oh,” was all he had to say, though he clearly wasn’t heavily disappointed.

Rayla instinctively went on the offensive first. She wasn’t sure if it was easier than usual, but she managed to force the human to keep going backwards, forcing him to produce a series of quick parries. Rayla felt confident, her formerly bound arm wasn’t even hurting that much anymore. The man scoffed and pushed her on the back foot forcing her to move backwards now. Rayla remembered how adamant Francis was on using her surroundings more often, so she stayed close to the trees. The man destroyed any bush and thin bark trees they went past, but the trees with thicker bark weren’t so destructible. His sword wedged into the first one they went past. Rayla seized her chance as she leapt towards him... but she jumped too early, anticipating a deceivingly early victory. The man reacted quickly and kicked her in the abdomen, sending her flying backwards. Despite the pain she forced herself to look back at the man and she was glad she did. She rolled out of the way to feel the man’s sword sink into the ground beside her.

Rayla got some distance between them and looked for another way to approach the battle. As they both heavily panted, Rayla remembered one last thing that she called Francis crazy for sometimes doing… at least she had two of them. Rayla and her opponent sprinted at each other and Rayla threw one of her swords. She caught the man off-guard but he had decent reactions as he parried the flying sword into the ground, making it stick upward. Rayla used her momentum to grab the sword and flip over her opponent, at least he didn’t know of this apparently too common Moonshadow elf tactic. She rotated her blades into picks and landed behind him. She went for his legs... but instead of making him fall over, the man stood on her blades. She looked up at him.  
“How many times do I have to tell people?” He panted. “Sweeping the leg is not a thing in sword fighting!”  
“Oh yeah?” She responded and sharply lifted her swords, making the man fall on his back again. “I’ll be sure to take more lessons from you then.” She waved her sword at him in victory.  
“Soren!” Rayla heard the woman shout. There was a second person. She totally forgot about her! She casted her sight behind her to look for the woman, but before she managed to process where she was, she felt her feet lose ground. The man apparently called Soren, grabbed her and pushed her backwards, flinging her into a pool of mud. At least it was a soft, yet disgusting landing.

Rayla quickly got up, refusing to be bested by two people at the same time, but then she saw a green substance on her swords and the woman chanting her Dark Magic spell, her eyes turning purple. Now that her vision was far clearer, she recognised that woman. She was from the dungeon back in the castle… Claudia, Callum called her? Rayla felt hatred bubble up inside her, threatening to boil over into hot rage. Instead she felt her swords heat up, as the previously green substance turned red and began to sizzle. Her burned hands dropped the blades into the mud, leaving Rayla to blow intensely on them.  
“Any last words, elf?” Soren raised his sword. Rayla looked down at the warm mud pool and managed to hide a mischievous smirk.  
“Does ‘hot mud’ count as a word?”  
“Wha...” Before Soren could finish, Rayla used her leg to kick a wave of hot mud right into Soren’s face. He angrily spat out some that got into his mouth and in the similar manner swung his sword down at her. But before the sword could reach her, there was a heavy clang. Another sword blocked the strike in a coldly calculated way and sturdily held between her and Soren.  
“That is one hell of a way to say hello.” It was the threatening voice of Francis, who flicked Soren’s sword away and shouldered him in the chest, forcing him backwards. “Good evening, Soren and Claudia.” Francis said in his usual tactful manner, yet it was burdened with indignation. “I assume Dark Magic made easy work of the monsters that roamed The Cursed Caldera?”  
“You!” Soren said in a more disgusted and bitter tone than when he referred to Rayla. Francis scoffed and rested his sword on his shoulder in a complacent way. Rayla noticed that Francis’s hair was a little different. Before he arrived he must have been cutting it, but he didn’t finish the job. It made him look a lot more unhinged, in fact he looked like he was teetering on the edge of insanity with that icy cold stare and inscrutable face.

“You were fine until you looked away,” Rayla realised Francis was talking to her. “Though that was a great recovery.”

“There was a second person in the fight!” Rayla objected, more furious by the fact that he was telling her this now.

“Considering she doesn’t have any weapons.” He responded quickly, closely examining Soren instead of paying attention to her.

“Did you really watch the whole fight?” She asked, irritated.

“Not fully, but to be fair you had him when I got there… until you looked away.”

“Is now really the best time to go through my errors?”

“Considering I already pointed them out to you before, I need to drill them into you. So yeah, right now is perfect!”

“I never thought I would meet the failed prodigy again.” Soren snarked interrupting their conversation. “The traitor that ran away. I’ll be glad to bring you back to Katolis as well.”

Ran away? Rayla always considered Francis fairly headstrong, but never dishonourable. Running away didn’t seem to be anything like him. Yet Francis didn’t object at first. Perhaps he wasn’t deigning him the effort of proving him wrong?

“You wanted a demonstration Rayla?” Francis whispered. “Well I’ve got a perfect specimen right here who eagerly volunteered.” Francis quickly turned and spoke uncharacteristically condescending to Soren. “Your rivalry is pointless, Soren. Considering how unnecessarily personal you made it, you might as well have failed spectacularly. You were made Crown Guard so that your obnoxious nature was kept away from the army. Besides you are unable to do the things the military leaders wanted me to carry out. You are way too one-dimensional and not rounded at all.”

Rayla again failed to recognise him. There was this swagger in his step that she never saw him do before. His body was relaxed, as though this wasn’t going to be a challenge. He never behaved like that during sparring. It boggled any sort of image in Rayla’s mind she had of Francis... and not for the first time.

“Oh this is...” but Soren never finished that sentence.

Francis jumped at him and put Soren through the paces, making him pull as many tricks out of the close quarters book as possible. Rayla was glad that Francis didn’t do that to her. His free elbow and fist really did work on Soren’s sides. It was devastating, since Soren was forced to block his sword with two hands, his sides were always left open and vulnerable. It was unconventional and frowned upon for Moonshadow elves to use their hands and feet during the fight. Despite it being resourceful, it was considered a sign of inability to wield a weapon and thus dishonourable. If any Moonshadow elf laid a hand or a foot during a fight, it was personal, a sign of extremely bad relationship with the quarry. At least, now she could get why Francis didn’t do that during sparring sessions. Finally, what seemed like an act of mercy, Francis simply pushed Soren away, floating backwards from the push in an elegant cartwheel manner. Where did all of that arrogance come from?

“Soren, you didn’t do the exercises I advised to you before I left.” Francis said nonchalantly. “Your calves are a little weak, but I’ve got to give you credit. You’re a tough cookie, most people would’ve keeled over by now.”

Soren gasped heavily for air, his sides certainly weren’t appreciating the beating. “Stop… gloating…!” Soren huffed. “I had… elf… before you…”

“Oh, you want an equal playing field?” Francis scoffed as though this totally sound excuse was the most ridiculous thing in the world. “Well, Claudia, you’re up,” he protruded his sword to the side presenting it to Claudia. No one seemed to pick up the hint as Rayla, Soren and Claudia stared at him, totally lost. Francis huffed in clear disappointment and elaborated. “The thing you did with Rayla’s blades.”

Rayla stopped getting out of the mud pool and looked at Francis like he had grown not one, not two, but at least three heads… but nothing could beat the stares of Soren and Claudia. She sheepishly and timidly did her Dark Magic spell, clearly thinking there was a trick. When she actually went through with it, Rayla was bewildered. That spell really burned at her skin and Francis was putting himself through it willingly? How had he not killed himself in his travelling, if he was so foolhardy? Francis barely winced or flinched when the spell took full effect. Instead he smirked at Soren, who was more or less recovered, but looked really unsure and nervous of what trick Francis was doing next.

“Aren’t you glad I spent the time to train to be good with both of my hands?” Francis dexterously flicked the sword between his two hands and mockingly beckoned Soren to attack first… which he did. Rayla almost instantly recognised that this was a trick, it was obvious from the side. Francis was in full control, giving Soren a false sense of it. Francis moved his body out of the way of the incoming swing and proceeded to use his legs to kick at Soren’s previously called out calves. Francis darted backwards, playfully juggling his sword and going for Soren’s knee instead. Soren staggered and Francis kneed him backwards. Francis ruthlessly followed him up and clearly held onto his sword a little too long, as he gritted his teeth. Before Soren was able to process that Francis was on top of him again, Francis flicked the sword to the other hand and grabbed Soren’s wrist. It was clearly hot enough, as Soren flinched and yelped, dropping his sword. Francis graciously flung his red hot sword into the air and mercilessly pulled Soren by his wrist towards a savage punch across his face, driving him into the ground. Francis nimbly caught his sword and sheathed it as the spell wore off. Soren brokenly slumped on the ground, grimacing in pain, as Francis picked Soren’s sword up.

“You’ve still got a long way to go, Soren.” Francis said awfully cordially, clearly straining his coldness at their presence and their actions. “You’re still as predictable as ever, nothing in you beyond your sword fighting capabilities.” He was returning to a more recognisable imperturbable figure, after he unceremoniously tossed the sword to Soren’s feet. “You lost on your ‘explaining yourself’ privileges. Now begone!”

“Stop!” Rayla, along with the rest, sharply turned her head to face the source of the disturbance, which was unmistakeably Callum’s voice. “Why are you fighting my friends?” He demanded, clearly frazzled by his groggy run. He clumsily stumbled himself in the middle of everyone, his hands defensively up as his eyes frantically eyed everyone, searching for words. It looked like he made conscious effort to keep his back straight.

“They attacked me!” Rayla responded, shocked by the revelation that they could be his friends.

“Yeah, Callum,” Francis said. “Your friends attacked our friend”… well, also him, but Rayla noted how he didn’t mention that, though it was really obvious.

“Friend?” Claudia uttered. “She kidnapped Callum!”

“She’s an elf!” Soren managed to make an audible sound through the pained gasps.

“But a good elf,” Callum blurted. Everyone heard a loud slapping noise at that and saw Francis’s hand on his own face. It was so violently loud, Rayla wondered if Francis hurt himself.

After a quick recovery, she put her hands on her hips. “What do you mean ‘but a good elf’?”

“‘A good elf’?” Claudia asked, perplexed. “She kidnapped you and Prince Ezran!” Rayla noticed how Francis looked awfully relieved that he wasn’t the centre of the topic and thus the main problem. He did however look rather pleased and proud at Callum, who to his credit managed to hold the situation well. He was getting better with coming up with things on the spot.

“There was no kidnapping,” Callum explained. “We went with her by choice. Listen, it’s late, if I can’t convince you tomorrow that we’re on the same side, you can fight each other then.” Francis’s face frowned at that. “Callum, they attacked us, I don’t think that’s a wise idea.” Francis reasoned.

“Francis, they’re two of my oldest friends and I can convince that we’re all on the same side!” Callum argued a little boldly than what Rayla expected of him.

“That’s the problem, I don’t think we are and your oldest friends instead of bringing relief, bring trouble.”

Rayla nodded, she naturally didn’t trust outsiders, but Francis practically suggested that they weren’t here for the princes… or solely for them.

“Please, I trust them. I can convince them.” Callum squared his shoulders to Francis, unusually confident. There was a resolute look in his eyes as Francis intensely stared back at them. After a few moments of silence between the two of them, Francis reluctantly sighed. There was nothing he could do to the fact that Callum, Soren and Claudia were friends, despite how much Francis or Rayla wanted them to be gone.

Francis turned to Claudia and Soren. “There are not enough letters in the alphabet, including the Ancient Draconic one, to describe my absolute fury at your behaviour. Do not make me drop my tact and politeness and show you a different side of eloquence!” Francis warned. “I don’t usually give out second chances, so you’re not even getting a millimetre of leeway, understood?” Claudia sheepishly nodded at that, but Soren remained reluctantly unmoved and silent. Francis continued. “Although we’re also guests, it would be extremely rude of us to not help you.” He held out his hand to Soren in what was a surprisingly genuine gesture, despite Francis’s more than apparent disapproval of him. Soren snubbed it and got up himself.

Francis went over to Rayla, as she lifted her swords out of the mud pool and wiped some excess mud off of them and herself. Francis looked like he was about to say something, but overheard a conversation Callum and Claudia were holding, as they moved away.

“That was so confident of you,” Claudia said. Rayla tilted her head to see them better.

“Uh… I guess?” Callum scratched the back of his neck. Claudia chuckled.

“Even though your hair is a little messy.” She replied as she went to fix the said hair.

“Ugh!” Was the sound that absentmindedly escaped out of Rayla’s mouth, until she realised that Francis and Soren also made the same noise, as they dumbfoundedly stared at each other.

Soren followed after them and Francis muttered to himself. “I guess that’s why he’s so oblivious…”

“What?” Rayla asked, unsure about the meaning of that comment.

Francis dismissively shook his head and finally found the words to speak. “Are you all right?” He asked.

Was she alright? She just watched for yet another time an uncanny dark version of Francis. Soren didn’t last long at all. Despite all the show-like tricks Francis portrayed, it was a quickly improvised yet brutally efficient duel. Rayla wouldn’t have been surprised if Francis calculated down to the miniscule details, like heartbeat. Each of Francis’s steps were sturdy and precise and even his gimmicks were planned, yet his inconsistent personality was off-putting to Rayla as she was unable to deal with them. It was rather intimidating and made things totally unpredictable… and she disliked that lack of control and hated being thrown off.

“I’m fine, you don’t need to worry about me.” She said dryly. She felt his eyes narrow on her… she really didn’t want him to persist. She didn’t want to talk about it while the presence of Claudia and Soren in the camp posed a threat.

“Okay,” he said. Did he really buy it? She did a poorly concealed sigh, until Francis added. “At the risk of sounding obvious, you should wash yourself off. I got my own things to do.” He waved towards his hair.

“I’m waiting for whatever that masterpiece of a haircut is going to be.” Rayla managed to jest, as Francis headed back.

“Training is on as per normal,” he called out.

“What? But I just had one?”

“Exactly why we need to work on it tomorrow!” He chimed.

“I guess I’ll be the first one to see the haircut.” Rayla quipped.

“You can now stop having a go at my not-fully-formed haircut. Don’t make me wake you up earlier.” He waved his finger in the air.

Rayla rolled her eyes, but fell silent anyway. She much preferred this light-hearted and quipping version of Francis.

* * *

Unbeknownst to everyone, Francis could sense foul things threatening to crack the dynamics of their team. Callum had something that weighed him down heavily and despite the apparent cheeriness there was clearly something tugging deep down. Rayla looked uncomfortable with something and Francis had his suspicions from their training that he was at fault somehow. Ezran was probably the least concerned, despite struggling with teaching the adorable Zym how to fly. This all came to a head by the introduction of the outer component of Soren and Claudia. It was a very tricky thing, because these sorts of external forces could either make or break a team.

Now, it was Francis’s job as a leader to tip-toe for a solution that would ensure they stick together. He certainly loved puzzles and never shied away from a challenge. He felt guarded about Soren’s and Claudia’s presence and naturally looked for deeper meanings. He doubted that this was a simple rescue mission party. He remembered Marcos going out of his way to make it to the Banther Lodge all the way from the castle… but Soren and Claudia, two of the oldest friends apparently, didn’t bother. It was also awfully convenient that they were the children of Lord Viren, a man who was supposed to be crowned last time he remembered, and was almost certainly stopped by General Amaya when the princes were found to be alive. This made for some very unsettling conclusions and possibilities that were at play here, that left Francis quite uneasy during his breakfast. He felt his own stillness so much, that he could feel the wind ruffle his soft and much shorter hair.

“I see the iconic forelock is back in action.” He snapped back to the voice of Claudia who was serving the pancakes she made. Perhaps she was trying to thaw their icy greeting. Francis politely refused her pancakes and then ran his own hand through the forelock, fixing it. At the very least, with his hair shorter on the sides, he looked much shaper, presentable and less crazy, as the hair that stood on top of his head gradually rose to the peak of the forelock, looking soft yet finely acute.

“You know, it has been a while when I could see my own proper reflection.” He explained in a manner that clearly warned off any more potential continuation of the conversation. A tone he never used with people he liked, trusted or was friends with. So it was a hint that was easily picked up by Rayla and the princes, between whom he sat…

“I thought you looked weird back there in the forest,” Claudia continued. “You must’ve been cutting your hair when we came.”

“I mean you and Soren also kind of looked weird,” Francis responded calmly. “You looked like you were trying to kill a friend of ours.”

“It happens,” Claudia shrugged, leaving Francis rather unimpressed. They still haven’t apologised for their behaviour! Claudia sat down, looked and gestured to the princes. “But at least we now know you haven’t been kidnapped!”

 _Even though you saw me, that should’ve been obvious from the start._ Francis held his tongue, despite the tension that was clearly there. He really needed to hold it together for his team, especially Callum and Ezran. Soren would have probably called him out for running away being a reason not to trust him… _which I didn’t. I escaped._

“You guys should really come back home, with the egg of course!” Claudia said and Rayla and Francis collectively frowned at that little detail added at the end.

“Eggs would go great with these pancakes.” Soren said with his mouth stuffed. What a great contribution to the conversation.

_Actually, we probably shouldn’t mention anything about Azymondias._

“Actually, there is no egg.” Callum said and it was the hardest thing for Francis not to slap himself for the ironically convenient timing... then it became the hardest thing not to strangle Callum into oblivion. At least, he could see the positives in such information being given away, as Claudia’s reaction was intriguing.

“What? What happened to the egg?” She rose to her feet. She turned around to the sound of Zym’s whimpering, who was carried by Ezran. She gasped. “It’s so cute! Awwww!” She slowly approached the dragon. “Who’s the cute baby dwagon?” Clearly Zym was left a little disappointed at his lack of cuddles, when Rayla forced her way between him and Claudia.

“Whoa! What happened to ‘it’s not a weapon, it’s an egg!’?” Rayla questioned.

“Still true, that thing could grow up to kill us all.” Claudia said calmly, as Rayla rolled her eyes in exasperation. “But right now it’s a cute baby boy!”

“Well, take a long hard look at it,” Rayla slapped Claudia’s hand that reached out to Zym. “Because that’s all you’re getting!”

“I get your concerns, Claudia and Soren,” Callum said. “But we need to bring Zym to Xadia.” Callum stuttered when he saw Francis’s straightening pedagogic glare. “Eastern Xadia”. He nervously scratched the back of his neck. “Anyways, the mission is too important.”Francis felt glad that Callum remained focused despite his recent strain and the silence that followed from Claudia gave him hope that shaking them off would be easier… but then Soren had to play _that_ card.

“You all need to come home…” he said mulling over how to say his next thing. “… because the king… your dad… really misses you.”

Francis violently shot up from his seat, his cape even whistled with a noise. It took all of his might, not to slam fists or palms into the table. Did he tell them not to waste their chance he granted them? Unfortunately, if he kicked up a fuss, then it would be a little too telling that King Harrow was dead… he promised that he wouldn’t tell them and Rayla would be the one. It infuriated him that there was nothing he could do about that. He warned Rayla about telling them before it was too late and right now was already quite late.

Thankfully, no one seemed to notice his reaction: the boys were looking at each other excitedly, while Claudia and Rayla intensely stared at a shamelessly nonchalant Soren, who was disgusting enough to eat up a slice of butter… straight! It seemed that after all of his naïve hope that they could shake off Soren and Claudia easily. They still had to delay their departure for another day.

* * *

Claudia was slowly setting a blaze inside her. No amount of Hot Brown Morning Potions could quench her anger and distress. First Soren suggested to stuff their friends into sacks, now he openly lied to them, about their dead father no less. Soren was insanely insensitive sometimes, but this really took it to a new level.

“Did you see the intense stare I got from the elf?” Soren yawned. “I think she’s into me.”

“Are you suggesting Francis is also into you?” Claudia asked, trying to compress some of her anger. It was moments like these when she hated him, but had to be his sister. “Judging by how _he_ looked at you, he was erasing you from the existence simply with his eyes! They’re onto us! Why did you openly lie to the princes, about their father no less? This is so wrong!” She pinched the bridge of her nose.

“You squash innocent creatures for magical pancakes!” Soren scoffed, as he went to lean back in his chair. “You told me ‘to butter them up’ and I tried that. It’s time to do it my way – punching and stuff!”

“This was supposed to be easy!” Claudia bemoaned. “The two of us getting the princes and the egg back home. Why did Francis have to be here as well?”

“Oh, we’ll sort him out,” Soren called out, dismissively.

“I was so scared seeing you getting slapped around by him back there. That was never supposed to happen! I thought he would kill you!” Claudia shivered at the thought.

“I wasn’t slapped around,” Soren defended, sounding a little insulted at the suggestion. “It’s just… it came too soon after the elf.”

“Soren, let me try something,” Claudia thought out loud, ignoring his last statement. “We have something neither the elf nor Francis have as much!”

“And what may that be?” Soren asked.

“Trust,” Claudia chimed. “Francis won’t do anything because Callum trusts us more. The whole reason why we are here and not kicked out!”

“So how are we going to use it?”

“I have something in my mind…”

* * *

“We can’t trust them!” Rayla spoke adamantly and still she was constantly met with Callum’s annoyed sigh.

“Look I get it,” he spoke briskly. “You hate Claudia, because she tried to kill you multiple times, but remember until today she thought you were trying to hurt me and Ezran.”

For once it was Rayla’s agitated sigh that followed a response. “No, Callum, that’s not why we can’t trust them. I know they’re lying, because…” Rayla took a deep breath. She already failed to tell him about the death of King Harrow once and she wasn’t quite ready then… and she definitely wasn’t ready now. She remembered her first hesitations of telling the princes that the King was dead. She thought that they would turn on her and hate her, which would ruin the mission. She was still a little afraid of that, but since when was she so hesitant and sensitive about hurting Callum… or Ezran? The silence was a little too long, as she looked at him with her mouth open… and nothing could come out, not even the quietest sound in the world.

“Knock-knock,” Claudia stood at the door waving her hand.

“Right… Rayla, sorry, I’m going to talk to Claudia. I haven’t seen her in a while.” Callum said quickly then shot up from his bed and happily pranced to her, as they both disappeared in the distance.

Rayla frowned and pouted at the poor timing of Claudia’s appearance, but mostly at her inability to tell Callum something that was so gravely important. It threw her completely off that she was so uncharacteristically unsure of herself, when she was always so direct and headstrong most of the time, even previously around Callum. Honestly, since when did she feel so hurt at the prospect of Callum… and Ezran, being hurt by her words?

She held her head in her hands, her elbows sunk into her knees, as she sat on the bed. She continued pondering about how she would break the news to the boys, but all her mind seemed to drift to was their reactions… and always the most unpleasant ones. It made her anxious that she wouldn’t be able to hear Callum’s wry jokes and his nervous ramblings anymore or Ezran’s clear laugh and shining smile and eyes. Would Francis abandon her too?

She tried her best to focus on the task at hand, but it was really hard. In fact it was telling when she hadn’t noticed a figure slipping in and sitting beside her. “Callum, I…” she said looking up, but it wasn’t him.

“Last time I checked I was still Francis, believe it or not.” He said dryly. She felt her face falter at the fact that she wasn’t getting another chance. “I see you’re mentally preparing for a hard talk… I did warn you.”

Rayla exhaled. She couldn’t muster any annoyance at yet another one of Francis’s seemingly easy reads. Instead she tried to brave another confession. “I don’t know how to do this,” Rayla said defeatedly.

“I would recommend using words, Rayla.” He said earnestly.

“That isn’t helping,” Rayla grumbled.

“Rayla, whatever happens, happens. I’m saying this at the risk of sounding hypocritical, but you can’t control everything, no matter how hard you try.”

“You seem to manage,” Rayla dismissed.

“Back at the lake I didn’t and even if I do try to control a lot of things, it comes at a huge cost, with a decreased life expectancy that is already sub-century in my case.” Francis flashed a small smirk. “You’re also talking to a guy who became a warrior and even elven ones have a notoriously low life expectancy and I am not the one to shy away from confrontation. The more battles I have to fight the more likely I’m going to perish.”

“Why are you saying all of this?” Rayla spat out.

“Because Rayla, you’ve got to accept that things won’t always end up perfect and you’re going to make mistakes. It’s all good in the end when you learn from them and be better next time.” Francis argued convincingly. “There will always be people who are going to be hurt or upset by your actions even if your intentions were pure and good. There is no point in wasting your time on calculating how Callum and Ezran are going to react, because they will be upset no matter what.”

“Great, I have so much confidence in this now.” She muttered.

“Well, you seem to be preparing for the worst. I can tell you, if you continue preparing for the worst possible scenario, you will definitely end up with it.” Francis said. “So, stop focusing on the potential outcomes that are beyond your control and start thinking about how you can soften their fall. Prepare for that and you will have a better chance at succeeding.”

“But what if I screw things up again?” Rayla asked. “What if my secret breaks our team?”

Francis put his hand on her shoulder. “You won’t screw thing up,” he reassured. “Have faith in the boys. They may be just boys, but they will understand. They’ll come around, especially if you’re honest. Just stop holding off.”

“This feels too big, I don’t know.” Rayla admitted.

“I have spoken,” Francis got up. “You think about it, while I figure out why the siblings are really here.” Francis headed out, leaving Rayla on her own. She perked up a little at the mention of the siblings. If she could prove that they couldn’t be trusted, then she won’t have to tell Callum anything yet. It was a shortcut! She could leave it until she formed her speech a little better, when there was a better time.

She jumped from the bed and with a determined spring in her step went outside to look for one of them. She really hoped that there was some other way to prove that Claudia and Soren couldn’t be trusted that didn’t involve telling Callum… and Ezran, of King Harrow’s fate.

* * *

It was a breath of fresh air for Callum to speak to his old friend, Claudia. For once, everything was clear and made sense to him. He was fairly sure of what to expect from her, unlike his last two conversations he had with his new friends. It touched Callum how deeply Francis cared about him and others by extension, but he wasn’t sure what to do with it yet. How was he supposed to act around him? He clearly hadn’t really gotten over how much he idealised him in his eyes. He also wasn’t particularly sure how it could solve his problem of having no magic. Rayla was just being her untrusting Moonshadow self, which was getting under his skin a little.

He quickly put all of his problems away and turned to something familiar. Oh, he missed Claudia’s raspy laugh and equally raspy voice. Her jet black hair lightly jumped up and down with the booming laughter in her chest. Her olive green eyes never looked so clear before. She seemed to be having a really good time… and to be fair wherever she went, there was always a wonderful aura around her.

“Hey, I’m sorry if I interrupted anything between you and your elf friend.” Claudia spoke, as they walked.

“Oh no, you didn’t interrupt anything.” Callum said quickly, he really didn’t want to talk about that yet.

“I didn’t ruin anything between you and her, right?” She asked a little gingerly and Callum nearly stopped functioning at the insinuation. No absolutely not! Not with Rayla! She couldn’t surpass anything that Claudia was!

“No, I don’t see Rayla like that. She’s just a really good assassin friend!” Callum spoke quickly, hoping it would make sure that there wasn’t even a slimmer of doubt from Claudia.

“Ah, okay, good!” Claudia said. Callum felt a warm flutter of relief spread across his chest. “I definitely have friends like that.” She deadpanned.

“Aha,” there was a moment, as Callum tried to gather how to advance the conversation further… “So… you wanted to talk?” He asked coolly, but his hand reached out to the back of his neck to settle that itch.

“Yeah, about some things from back home.” Claudia explained, as Callum tuned out. That felt so long ago, even if it was just a week. In truth, Callum barely thought about Katolis apart from yesterday, when he got the chance to write back his letter. He hadn’t even thought about Claudia that much until they met yesterday, which was surprising even to him… things just got so messy. Last time they saw each other… he chained her to a wall and took her Primal Stone that wasn’t with him anymore. Guilt played a full orchestra in his body and in that moment everything else became irrelevant.

“I broke your Primal Stone.” He felt his previously tight chest become gradually lighter. Claudia turned to face him and before she could open her mouth, Callum went on. “It was on purpose.” Claudia’s brow furrowed. “It was for a good reason!”

“Then it’s fine, Callum!” Claudia said with a genuine tone.

“I know this doesn’t really make up for it, but I wanted to show you around all these Moon Magic places,” Callum began positively, but then nerves took over him. “… if you let me?”

“I would let you.” Claudia replied cheerily.

“Thanks, Claudia, you’re the best!” Callum stretched his arms to embrace her in a hug, but then quickly backpedalled. He felt it was too quick and forced… nothing to do with confidence. However he unearthed the courage to grab her hand and pull her towards their first destination.

* * *

Claudia felt enchanted by Callum’s buzzing over this magical place. It was clear that Callum was here before, as he pointed out some of the landmarks, but he was still as enthralled as though it was his first time. It was really cute, actually. They went inside some grand Moon temple thing, that had lots of those Moonmoths flying around the whole place… as one would expect.

They were greeted to a library… that already was beating the one in Katolis. It wasn’t this ridiculous cramp thing that forced you to play a physics based game with the book shelves. This temple housed a wide corridor with small bookcases facing each other. Claudia wondered if this temple used to house more people, the corridors were so spacious. On the walls were a multitude of runes that gave off a blue hue.

Claudia pranced closer to them, as they captured her undivided attention. “These are probably some powerful spells.” She guessed.

“It’s just such a shame that humans can’t do any magic without a Primal Stone.” Callum said quite sombrely. Well that was a quick mood shift.

Claudia turned to him in surprise. “What are you talking about? Yes we can.” Claudia scoffed.

“No, no, no,” Callum raised his hands and one of his legs took a step backwards. “I meant Primal Magic, not… your kind of magic.”

Claudia put her hands on her hips, furrowing her brow. “My kind of magic?”

“Dark Magic.” Callum said, barely a whisper, looking fearfully around.

“Are you always this quiet when you’re being judgemental?” Claudia mockingly matched him.

“No, sorry, I didn’t mean it that way.” Callum said quickly.

Claudia puffed and looked softly at Callum. Making him flustered was perhaps the easiest and the most fun thing in the world… apart from doing Dark Magic. Come to think of it, there weren’t a lot of Dark Mages left in the Human Kingdoms ever since the Mage Wars. She only knew of one in Neolandia, apart from her and her dad. Their caste was dying out.

“I just really loved learning magic and now I’m really sad that I can’t anymore.” Callum said wistfully. “It was… me.”

Claudia felt sympathy for the boy, she really wanted him to be happy… yet something sparked in her mind. She never saw Callum so excited about something that wasn’t art and it seemed that his loss had dislodged him quite a bit. She went for her little bag she carried, looking for something that was simultaneously practical and creative.

“But you can Callum and judging by how eager you seem to be about magic, you really should.” She presented to him the purple book with golden patterns on the cover. The six small Primal Runes surrounded one big rune… two golden lines coiled around each other, like serpents, coming up to the top to encircle a golden dot to form an eye – The Mark of Dark Magic. Claudia noticed how Callum froze, his mouth formed a thin line.

“I want to learn Primal Magic,” he said airily, as though his confidence evaporated as he spoke. In fact, Claudia didn’t feel like that was even directed at her, as he didn’t look at her or the book. “… but you have to be born with that magic inside you.”

“That’s why Dark Magic is so good.” Claudia debated calmly. “You just take things that do have magic and squeeze it out of them. Like those annoyingly cute Moonmoths.” Claudia smiled at the one that landed on her shoulder. Callum flinched, but it wasn’t as extreme as the first time she insinuated Dark Magic to him. His head ducked down to his shoulders. “Hey, you’re doing the thing again, Prince Judgy-face!” Claudia glared at him, but this time Callum remained tense. “Look, here is how I see it,” Claudia continued in a much calmer tone. “Humans weren’t born with magic, but we were always meant to do magic, just like everything else can in this world. We found this amazing way of doing magic that is more powerful and impactful than any of the Primal Magic! That’s what Dark Magic is really all about. You can still be a mage and I am more than happy to teach you every day… when we return to Katolis.” Claudia judged his reaction, as Callum contemplated her offer.

Callum didn’t speak for a while. She wasn’t sure if she was seeing correctly, but it seemed like his pupils were dilating. His mouth was slightly agape as his hand subliminally lifted and etched towards the book… yet it darted back down as though it was burned. “I’m sorry, it’s just not for me.” Callum said blankly, entirely unconvincingly.

Claudia was about to open her mouth again, when they were interrupted by someone clearing their throat. It was Francis who looked unimpressed… to put it lightly. Claudia felt daunted, she really didn’t want to deal with him, not now and preferably never. He was just too big to ignore and just like all big personas, he was impossibly difficult to sway. He stood unabashedly upright with his hands behind his back. He glowered at Callum and began moving his hands hard and precise. She recognised that he was signing, but she never studied it before. Callum however knew sign language.

“ _Callum_ ,” Francis signed. “ _I know you’re excited, but you do know where you are, right?_ ”

“ _Why am I not surprised that you are in the library?_ ” Callum signed nervously back.

“ _Because I need a place to read away from all of_ you.” Francis face hardened. “ _This is also Lujanne’s meditation chamber. And you know what? It has been rather silent in here until you and your girlfriend showed up!_ ”

“ _She is not my girlfriend!_ ” Callum went through the motions quickly, driven by panic.

“ _Then pray do tell me, why are you blushing so much? You look pinker than a rose from Duren!_ ” Francis allowed a mischievous smirk to flash across his face, as Callum blushed harder. “ _You do belong in the library yourself, Callum; I can read you like a book. You’re bad at keeping your feelings totally hidden! It’s quite cute, I must say_.” It just made Callum more and more red, whilst he was slowly becoming smaller than he already was. Francis’s teasing alone was enough to be the death of him.

“Um, Callum, what is he saying?” Claudia asked, noticing how flushed he was. She put her hands up pretending to ready herself for a chop.

“Let’s just go.” Callum managed to say quietly and tugged her after him by her sleeve, as they left hurriedly. Francis just stood there, laughing quietly to himself.

 _Teenagers_ , he thought to himself. _Why is this so painfully relatable?_ He shook his head and went back to finish reading the diary for the day.

* * *

Callum, still totally embarrassed, turned to the Moonhenge with Claudia. He was thankful Claudia decided not to press on what he and Francis had discussed. At least he wouldn’t have to come up with unconvincing lies. Callum also really hoped Francis didn’t notice how he reached for the tome of Dark Magic. The way he reached out to it was just so instinctual, he hadn’t really given thought to that. Then again, there were a lot of times where he acted before truly thinking thoroughly through about it. Nearly every time he would end up being worse off by it… just look at his lack of magic now.

He was a little envious of how Francis was able to constantly maintain control and remain composed and confident. He was just so much more meticulous and unerring than Callum, that he seemed like he was out of reach; leagues ahead of Callum. Claudia on the other hand was far closer, at least she walked on the same plane of existence for Callum. He could at least reach up to her. She was just so beautiful, simultaneously intense and serious and quirky and fun. Those glances where her knowing green eyes were half closed as she daydreamed, melted his soul. In fact, he could melt into the ground when he acknowledged the giddiness that surfaced Claudia’s face, when she saw the ruins.

“I love ruins too,” Callum looked knowingly at Claudia.

“The echoes of ghosts. I love to see the remains of the past, its destruction!” Claudia jumped on the spot. Sure, that reasoning worked too, but Callum meant more because this was all magic.

Claudia ran to the middle of the Moonhenge, twirling around as if dancing. She graciously lifted her arms above her head. Despite her eyes being shut, Callum could picture the dreamy stare of them as she imagined to be back there, participating in one of the Moon druids’ rituals. It was an image he wanted to capture exactly, as he was gladly able to stare at that pose Claudia made for eternity. She was… perfect. In that moment, his guard dropped completely, his sense of preservation whisked somewhere far away.

“Wow… beautiful,” he said out loud. Claudia gawked at him, as she returned to the realm of the living. Callum froze when he realised how loudly he said what he said.

_Commit! Play it cool!_

Callum rubbed the back of his neck, as he coyly looked to the side towards the last thing he hadn’t showed her yet. “Wait until you see the Moon Nexus, then you’ll see what’s beautiful!” Callum said, chickening out from committing to his words… and mentally slapping himself yet again. He went ahead to lead her, but paused. “Actually, we should come back tonight, when the moon rises.” Callum said it, unknowing of the implications that his words could have. When he turned back to face Claudia, there was a light blush in her cheeks, as she did the familiar motion of scratching the side of her neck.

“Great, it’s a date.” She said softly. Did Callum hear that correctly? Judging by how his body went soft and the warm feeling akin to honey or balm that spread across it, he wasn’t dreaming. He hoped he wasn’t. No, he really wasn’t.

She waved at him as she went back and Callum only had the brain power to lift his hand up. He was soaring in the clouds… no, in heaven. He stood still for a very long time, making sure she was out of earshot. Nobody liked loud mages, but at least there was no one around to tell him off. Euphoria hit him and his brain for the billionth time visualised _that_ moment and processed Claudia’s words, just to make sure he wasn’t kidding himself. He jumped in the air, punching it harder than he ever did before. He completely forgot about everything that wasn’t Claudia… even his lack of magic and the fact that he technically wasn’t a mage. His memory would immortalise this moment: before, after and everything in between. He proceeded to scream, letting the whole world know that… “It’s a date!”

* * *

Soren struggled to think straight. He couldn’t hurt a kid! The whole idea was so sickening that he felt like he was losing a grip on reality, as his body did whatever it wanted to do before his mind had agreed to it. Prior to heading to Prince Ezran and his new friends, he managed to come up with an excuse: it wouldn’t be his fault if the kid was doing something stupid. He needed to make his father proud and he told himself that this was for the greater good… yet another voice questioned it and begged him not to do it.

He somewhat grabbed control of himself, as the kids and the animals stared at him. He must have looked a little too nervous to talk to a child. He prayed that the kids would have thought that he was sweating because of the clear sunny day.

“Oh, don’t worry,” the girl that called herself Ellis said, a smile spreading widely across her face. “Ava doesn’t bite, unless you’re here to hurt others.” The little baby dragon cooed at that. Soren guessed it was some sort of Draconic way of agreeing. Do dragons even have their own language?

“Yeah, right,” Soren cleared his throat. Deep down, he slightly hoped they would say no to his idea. “Ez. Dragon. Wolf-girl. Wolf. My main glow boy, Bait. Who’s up for doing something absolutely totally cool and rad…” The kids and surprisingly the animals all cheered before he even finished his sentence, so Soren said the next part very briskly. “… but also incredibly dangerous in which some potential accidents may occur?”

“What is it?” Ezran asked.

“Slidey-Sling Go-Fast Rope!” Soren said dramatically, but was only met with confused stares. “Let me just show you.”

After painstaking hours of hanging a rope across the bright green valley, with the help of Phoe-Phoe, Soren was half-heartedly fixing a peg in the tree at the top of the slide. Most of the heart went into animating every single strike he made with his sword, adding a few puffs in for an extra dramatic effect.

“So you just built a zipline?” Ezran asked.

“No, this is Slidey-Sling Go-Fast Rope!” Soren bemoaned.

“It looks like a normal zipline to me.” Ellis said. Ezran nodded in agreement.

“It’s not the same!” Soren argued.

“How is it different?” Ezran asked.

“This is mine!” Soren announced dramatically, as though his touch made all the difference. Ezran just shrugged, seeming to be satisfied with the answer. “Is that thing ready?” He asked pointing to the peg. Soren quickly gave it a look. It wasn’t the most secure thing in the world, but it would only become a little precarious after a few slides.

“Of course! Just watch me!” Soren got his sword and used it to slide down, doing some weird battle cry. It echoed throughout the luscious valley and Soren seemed to be pleased with himself. Despite that, Bait grumpily opted out of having fun, but everyone else joined in. Ezran and Zym went next and Ellis and Ava finished the line-up.

As Phoe-Phoe helped them return back to the top, Soren couldn’t stop a smile from going across his face when he saw how the kids were eager and happy about something he produced. The warmth of the sun began to illuminate the greenery of the trees and shrubs around them even brighter.

“Come on Zym, you were supposed to spread your wings all this time.” Ezran lightly scowled the dragon. Zym only croaked in response. “That’s how flying is supposed to feel like.”

The peg was becoming more and more loose. Soren jerked his head, the children thankfully didn’t hear it. Ava and Ellis went down the zipline; the peg got precariously loose. Surely it won’t take another slide?

“Hey, Ez, you should go next.” Soren said before he could reconsider anything. Unsuspecting, Ezran got into his seat to go down the zipline. Soren looked over the peg again; he really should fix it. There was a tight knot down in his stomach, that made him feel queasy about this whole ordeal. He pushed whatever that was away. “Whenever you’re ready!” Soren told Ezran. Ezran took his word for it and went down the zipline. Soren heard the tiny cracks in the wood behind him.

_You should do something about it, Soren._

_My father needs to be proud of me!_

_Remember how you failed to protect the King._

_Remember how you disappointed father!_

_Remember the kid’s smile…_

_Remember your father’s request, remember the humanity!_

_It will be the kid’s last ever smile… you will never make him happy again._

Soren turned as sharply as he could and stormed towards the peg, as quickly as he could. He barely flinched when the elf, landed beside him and after a short pause he barged through her instead. Besides, she was a little harder to discern amongst the greenery since she wore a green suit.

“What are you doing?” Rayla asked him, suspiciously narrowing her eyes at him.

“Nothing.” Soren replied curtly, as he put all of his might into fixing that peg, sweating profusely from the sun that shone on him. No accident was happening on his watch. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, I don’t know, standing on my two feet.” Rayla replied sarcastically.

“So it would seem,” Soren said, pointedly not looking at her. After nothing but the sounds of metal hitting against metal, Soren stood up, happy with his work. He looked back to find that the elf was still standing there with her hands crossed. “What do you want?” Soren spat out.

“I think you should go down the zipline.” Rayla said.

“It’s Slidey-Sling Go-Fast Rope.” Soren corrected her.

“Whatever. You should go, unless you’re afraid of some accident happening.” Rayla raised her hand to her chin to feign pensiveness. Her eyes darted to Soren, when he faltered for a moment. She didn’t know, did she? She was certainly bluffing, right?

“With pleasure.” Soren said quickly hoping to skip over his initial reaction. He ran towards the rope and slid down it, giving a suspicious look behind him. He really hadn’t considered if she wanted him to go down so that she could cut the rope. It wouldn’t be surprising considering how dishonourable and savage the elves were.

To his surprise however, the elf stopped looking at him and was instead staring to someone beside her… and so Soren looked over. It was a sight that made his skin crawl and suddenly shiver from the piercing cold stare that froze his soul, simultaneously burning him from the inside. The cape that He wore was stiff behind His menacing stance, as all the lush green colours around Him dulled to a darker pallet of a forthcoming thunderstorm. Francis was there, turning darker by the second and Soren was afraid that He knew, even if he didn’t go through with it. What was in store for him now?

“Look out!” The little girl, Ellis, shouted from atop her wolf. Soren smacked into the tree, as he forgot to jump off. He fell with a heavy thud and rubbed his head. It was an awful collision considering his ribs were reminding him of the fight they had yesterday. He was a little stunned and dazed, as the kids surrounded him. He waved them away, pretending that he was fine and to be fair he was able to process things, he just needed time to recover.

Whilst he did that he saw a dark grey cloud floating down towards him. Soren wished he could escape, but he was no coward… and he was in no condition to run anyway. He prepared himself for the worst when He landed beside him.

“Are you okay?” It was a blank and airy voice, perhaps the worst tone He could have used, considering it was impossible to predict how the conversation would go. It was the complete opposite of how He looked at Soren before he collided with a tree.

“I’m fine.” Soren said simply, as his vision returned to a better state. Francis’s face was unreadable, but his eyes maintained the cold steely hardness that Soren envisioned when he slid down the zipline.

“Good, I’m glad.” Francis replied dryly. “I would hate for an accident to have happened.” Soren looked up at him, in his hurt state there was little he could do to hide when he was caught out. Having caught on, Francis continued rather mercilessly for Soren. “They do tend to happen quite a lot in the wild.” Soren took a sharp breath, it somehow sounded more ominous when someone else said it, other than his father.

Francis raised his eyebrows at that. Something must have clicked in his head. He pursed his lips and glared at Soren, making him feel miniscule. It immediately unnerved him; Francis had him. His piercing eyes were like daggers that would cleanly go right through him. Francis pointed two of his fingers at his eyes then back at Soren’s. It was a hefty warning, probably borderline threat. Soren managed to hide his gulp, as he read Francis’s eyes.

_If anything happens to Ezran, I will make sure it will be worse for you._

Francis turned away from Soren to Ezran who was holding back the whimpering dragon. Soren was going to kill that thing that was so concerned for him?

Francis checked up on Ellis and Ava before kneeling beside Ezran. “So did you enjoy your little shenanigans?” Francis spoke light-heartedly.

“It was fun, until Soren smashed into a tree.” Ezran said.

“He just wanted to get to know it up close and personal.” Francis replied calmly. “He’s attracted to things that are made out of the same material as his head.”

Ezran snorted, but then disapprovingly shook his head at his derisive humour. “Come on, Francis!” He exclaimed. Soren was embarrassed that a little kid, he tried to kill had to stand up to him. Soren was still too dazed to come up with a response.

“Don’t worry, Ezran! Rival talk here, he’s fine. He’ll live.” Francis chuckled. “How is flying lessons with Zym going?”

“We’re trying,” Ezran sighed.

“Keep going, you’ll get it.” Francis encouraged.

“You really think so?” Ezran lifted his chin.

“Of course, if anyone will, it’s you with your crazy ability. You’re the Animal Whisperer!”

“I thought you said that it wasn’t as crazy as Callum made it out to be?” Ezran asked, tilting his head.

“Well, no, but you’re the only one left with crazy hair.” Francis playfully ruffled his hair to a giggling Ezran. “It’s getting late, we should all head to dinner.” Francis concluded when Soren was finally able to stand straight. He helped Ezran get up on Phoe-Phoe and sat behind him, shielding him. It was certainly a tense and awkward ride back for Soren. He would hate to find out how dinner was going to be.

* * *

“We cannot trust Soren and Claudia.” Rayla barged into Callum’s room, interrupting him from his drawing.

“We already had this conversation,” Callum sighed, annoyed by many things that mostly came from Rayla herself.

She was however stubborn on trying to get her point across. “I have proof this time,” she waited for Callum to react, but his face remained doubtful and indifferent. “Soren built this zipline thingy for Ezran, that was supposed to be a trap.”

“And you know that how?”

“The peg was kinda loose!” Rayla stared at the unchanging face of Callum, deep down she was becoming frustrated with why he was so inert.

“Kind of?” He questioned.

“Yes, Soren wanted there to be an accident,” Rayla claimed. “Which is why when I forced him to go down, he hurriedly went over to tighten the peg.”

“So, what you’re saying is that the peg was kind of loose and Soren went over to tighten it?” Rayla pinched the bridge of her nose, she should have thought things through more carefully. Wasn’t impulsivity and poor choice of words, Callum’s trait?

“Look, Callum, I know I’m not explaining things well but you just have to look me in the eye and trust me.” It was perhaps the first time Rayla wasn’t afraid of giving something away with her eyes. She was so sure that Francis and Callum were able to read her mind sometimes. Callum indulged her request and stood up, staring into her eyes, into her mind.

“I can see you believe it,” Callum began. Rayla almost managed to breathe a sigh of relief, but she was too quick to assume that this was her victory. Callum turned back to his sketchbook. “But I’ve known Soren and Claudia for years. You and I don’t have that yet.” Rung from Callum’s mouth and that slew Rayla’s persistence. She defeatedly left the room, giving one last pained look back at Callum. Maybe he would change his mind… but no. He looked like he was sure of his words.

She felt so pained and frustrated and it showed. She was dead silent during dinner, that everyone was having, seldom looking anywhere apart from into the distance. It was insufferably silent and any small talk attempted from unusually chipper Claudia and Callum were met with a cold silence from everyone. Francis was also unusually silent, he had his ‘thinking face’ on and she was certain that she could her the gears turning in his head. She wondered what was the subject of his musing.

Eventually the dinner devolved into a rather hushed discussion between Ezran and Francis and Claudia and Callum. Rayla occasionally overheard Francis constantly explaining some facts about dragons and Xadia and teaching new vocabulary to Ezran, who didn’t seem bored or overburdened. Oh, she wished she was as relaxed as Ezran was right now. The moment she feared most, losing the boys and thus failing the mission, was replaced by simply losing Callum to his older friends. Even Francis the most authoritative person in the group, the leader, couldn’t simply persuade him to stop listening to his friends. She reluctantly agreed that it would’ve been cruel and counter-productive to force Callum away from them. Rayla sighed, her secret that threatened the cohesiveness of her team and mission itself, might’ve become the only way to ensure that they prevail as a team… and she didn’t like it. Rayla didn’t feel so confident that it would work out… not as fearless as Francis seemed to be. There was one last person she felt safe she could confer with.

Twilight was settling in and Rayla hurried towards Lujanne’s meditation chamber. That Moon mage might be kooky, but at least she lived a long live, maybe she could give her a way out or some form of advice.

“Lujanne,” Rayla said as soon as she opened the door. “I need your help.”

“If it’s wisdom that you seek, then I shall do my best to fake it,” Rayla already began to regret the fact that she came to her. “That’s an old illusionist joke.” Lujanne clarified.

“Right,” Rayla didn’t feel more encouraged or relaxed at that explanation. “I need my friend to trust me, but he doesn’t. I think it’s my fault.”

“How so?” Lujanne leant forward.

“I’ve been keeping a secret from him – hiding the truth.” Rayla said with a heavy voice.

“Rayla, look at the moon,” Rayla followed her pointing finger. “Light currently only falls on half of its face, but the other half is still there. It’s the same with you and everyone else, there are parts that we keep hidden.”

“If I want him to trust me, doesn’t that mean I should stop hiding the truth?” Rayla asked.

“Real trust is about accepting the dark parts that we will never know.” Lujanne said calmly.

“That can’t be right. Lying and hiding aren’t that different. Strong relationships require honesty, the full truth,” Rayla argued. A small laugh escaped Lujanne, as she rolled her eyes at the young Rayla.

“Oh, you sound like my first three husbands. Have you never had friends?”

“Well, not really. These humans are my first true friends,” Rayla said solemnly, yet proudly.

“Why do you trust them?” Lujanne asked. Rayla’s first instinct was to answer that they were on the same mission just like she did to Francis during their first night, but that wasn’t the central piece to the puzzle… not anymore. It ran deeper than that. She really enjoyed their presence, Ezran’s, Callum’s and Francis’s. They added so much colour to the life around them, her assassin mission felt dull and boring in comparison.

“Because they showed me a different angle to life, a different perception. Their intentions are pure and selfless.” Rayla admitted.

“You know everything about them?”

“Yeah, they’ve been telling me about their pretty human lives.”

“Hmm,” Lujanne pondered at her words. “That’s surprising to hear. Francis may be a man of many words, but he always seemed to me like an impenetrable rock.” Rayla’s eyes widened at that. Francis’s concern for others led him to listening to a lot of their problems and stories without telling as much about himself. Sure he told his amusing adventures out in… _Eastern_ Xadia, but he remained nearly silent about his life before that. He didn’t tell everything about himself and neither did she to the boys… yet they definitely trusted each other. “I see you’ve had a revelation,” Lujanne smirked.

“He has me like an open book, sometimes he is able to predict my words and moves. He saw me in Silvergrove… yet I know nothing about why he ended up on the road; why he ran away,” Rayla muttered to herself. It bothered her slightly, yet she didn’t trust him less. Francis was the beating heart of the team, made of sturdy and reliable stuff.

“Yeah, the man is eloquent and very careful and precise with his choice of words.” Lujanne remarked correctly. It reinforced to Rayla that she also wanted to be careful with her words.

“I’m afraid of hurting my friend, but I owe him the truth,” Rayla said. “I can’t leave Callum in the dark any longer; I have to tell him what happened to his dad.”

“I’m glad my wisdom helped,” Lujanne concluded.

“It didn’t. It was wrong.” Rayla argued.

“Was it? Or was it just differently true?” Lujanne added and Rayla left with that thought rummaging in her head.

* * *

Callum was fixing his hair. Was it straight enough? His brother told him to put it more up, but he thought he was tricking him. Are his clothes straight? Are they even clean after all the travelling? Probably not, maybe the dirtiness was not too visible. He really wished right now he hadn’t forgotten that backpack all the way back in Katolis. Oh… Claudia was already there standing in the middle of the Moonhenge, her back towards him… and she looked so beautiful. Her usually long hair was tied back in a bun, held up by a white lily. She looked so gorgeous under the faint light of the half moon. Callum forgot how to breathe and was forced to inhale deeply and loudly.

She turned casually to face him. “Hi,” was all she said.

Callum’s brain was not functioning well enough for him to articulate anything back to her. He slowly approached her, as Claudia went back to inspecting the runes… and Callum did likewise, stopping to the side slightly behind her. Callum swallowed, he was being too awkward and silent for a date… to be fair it wasn’t unusual for him to be awkward and quiet in life in general. It was just far more painful right now. He just felt the urge to say something, so that it could go easier as he went along.

“Hey,” Callum stammered. “The moon is out tonight. You can see our shadows.” Claudia looked down at the said shadows and smiled, not saying anything back.

Callum regarded their shadows with greater attention, they were like a pair of silhouettes on a piece of paper… and he imagined… no, visualised, one reach out to hold the hand of the other. It lost meaning to him to whom the shadows belonged to – it didn’t matter. Two unknowns appreciating each other’s presence, for a hope of a brighter future…

He felt something or more accurately someone shuffle right beside him. Claudia slipped her hand in Callum’s outstretched palm… it took a lot for Callum not to gawk or make a noise, but his knees definitely shook for a split second.

“You were making your shadow hold the hand of my shadow,” Claudia teased, turning him to face her.

“Did I?” Callum tried to play coolly… whilst his cheeks turned pinker. Even the dimmer light of night didn’t help him, his blush made his face glow. It was certainly entertaining for Claudia as she quietly laughed along.

“You wanted to show me the Nexus. Come on!” She took both of his hands and dragged him towards it.

Callum thought that nothing could get better than this. Him and Claudia on a date! Somebody actually liked him, actually appreciated him, actually took an interest in him… he didn’t actually get stood up. It was his wildest dream come true and it was just hitting him now. Yet it kept getting better… the lake was just as beautiful as he imagined. In fact it was for once better than he had pictured it. A half-moon in the air and a half-moon practically in the their palms. There was also a third moon beside Callum… he looked at Claudia and her flower. It was just as white as the moon, but this ‘moon’ was full and bright across the black sky of her hair. Somehow the already overachieving view was dwarfed by the perfectly stunning figure beside Callum. Night was definitely Claudia’s nature.

“Wow!” The breath-taking Claudia had her breath taken away by the mere sight of the moonlit lake. “It’s like the moon is at our feet.”

“So, Claudia…” Callum leant on the stone barrier in front of him, hoping to hide any of nerves that were coming to him in the form of trembling.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve known you for so long…” Callum trailed off. Getting the words out was still incredibly difficult, even if he thought it would get easier as time went on.

“Yeah, me too,” Claudia blurted, jumping into Callum’s pause.

“I mean, yeah, you’ve known yourself your whole life.” Callum said absentmindedly and immediately cringed at the fact he said it. He slapped himself in the face, turning redder from the embarrassment rather than the impact of his hand. At least Claudia found it funny.

“Callum,” she tugged the sleeve of his jacket, signalling him to turn around. “You’re so funny, you always make me laugh.”

“You too,” Callum said, feeling immediately more relaxed. He definitely felt bolder. “And you make me think and… and…” he took a breath to regain his composure. This time he would commit. “… and you make me see the world a different way. A whole different way.” Claudia’s face softened and Callum felt himself lose any kind of tension as his soul and heart melted under the gaze… yet he felt that something else had to happen, but he wasn’t sure what. Maybe he had to say something, but it felt like he was winded, his chest and mouth empty. “Wow, I suddenly don’t have any more words.”

Claudia chuckled taking a shy step towards him. “That’s fine,” she said softly and quietly. “We can just be here… without any words,” and it really felt better.

The silence was just so serene and sirenic. Callum felt a smile tug at his lips. He was truly happy, happier than ever before in his life. Everything seized to exist. Who cared about the lake, the Nexus, the war? Callum’s life before this moment became non-existent and irrelevant. They grabbed each other’s hands and leaned closer. Their faces were almost touching. Callum’s heart raced. How intoxicatingly sweet would her lips feel? How warm? Callum’s heart throbbed faster as he felt Claudia’s breath tickle his face. Their lips were almost touching… they were almost whole.

“Wait,” Claudia’s face pulled away. Did he do something wrong? Callum felt confusion and loss wash over him. “Callum, I need to tell you something.” Claudia’s face went grave and Callum felt panic spread over him. He didn’t know what to do or how to react. “Something terrible happened back at Katolis…”

That place returned to the realm of existence for Callum. “What happened?” He managed to say. Claudia looked away, screwing her eyes shut. Was she tearing up?

“Do you remember why you were supposed to be sent away?” Claudia asked, her voice failing her.

“Assassins,” Callum replied. His brain was already in pieces from the confusion and he wasn’t sure where Claudia was leading him.

“Do you remember who they… came for?” Claudia managed. Her voice was so quiet that Callum had to lean in to hear her.

“The King.” Callum realised what he had said. He backed away from her in disbelief.

“Callum,” Claudia said. “The King,” no this wasn’t true, he had the best guards… Callum was slipping… maybe he was just badly injured. Soren said he wanted the boys to come home. “The King didn’t make it that night…” Claudia trailed off as tears dropped to the ground and she fell silent.

Callum was falling again, quicker than ever before towards the familiar dark cold ground… but he didn’t hit the ground. He went right through it, as his whole body sank. It was so much darker than it had ever been before. The world went mute. He felt everything around him turn grey: the moon, Claudia, the Nexus, the lake… he felt like he was at the bottom of that lake, the weight of the water pressing, crushing against him in total deathly darkness. He was drowning, grasping for the precious air, for life… but it felt so empty and withering without… without...

Callum ran away. He couldn’t lose himself in front of anyone. He inhaled sharply and quickly. In. Out. In. Out. The tears trickled down the sides of his cheek. As his breath returned to somewhat normal state, he slowed down to a slogging step. Feeling indescribably empty and unbearably encumbered on the inside. On the outside he felt nothing, not even the chilling wind against his wetted cheeks.

“Callum?” A voice made him present again, made him feel and hear again. What good it was that he was returned to a world where his father was…? Callum looked up, it was the face of Rayla, one of the elves who were sent out to kill his dad… and despite not doing it, she still hid it… like a criminal. “We need to talk.” She said with a heavy sigh.

“I know what happened,” he said gravely, brushing away his tears with his sleeve. “He is… gone.” He watched Rayla’s face drop.


	13. The Darkest of Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Callum's newfound dark truth, the team's very goal was faced with a heavy threat. Callum had found himself at a cross-roads: would he choose to stay with Francis and Rayla or return to Katolis with Soren and Claudia.

This was about as bad as she could’ve expected things to go. No matter what she said, Callum wasn’t listening. He marched away, his shoulders stiff and his fists clenched. It was like he was trying to ignore her and despite not seeing his face, Rayla felt it glower at her. He was slipping away from her.

“Callum, I’m sorry.” Rayla said again, almost begging to be heard. “I tried to tell you that the King was dead.”

Callum turned around sharply, finally looking her in the eye. “My stepdad. He was more than just a king to me.” He said and Rayla internally flinched at that. It was perhaps the first time Rayla heard Callum refer to the King like that and although it was a known fact, it throbbed at Rayla’s heart to hear him say it… knowing that the King was gone all this time.

Rayla needed to explain herself, be honest about it, like she was advised earlier that day. “Your stepdad, I know,” Rayla corrected herself, feeling her ears droop lower. “I really tried, but I could never find the right way to put it in words. Whenever I tried, I messed it up and the next time was harder until…”

“Rayla, just stop.” Callum cut her off and Rayla obeyed. “I can’t talk about this right now. All I can think about is how am I going to tell Ezran our father is gone.” That perhaps killed Rayla harder than realising that she was late to tell Callum the news. He was mad at her and he was grieving, but even in that moment he was still thinking about his baby brother. She felt crestfallen at a simple thought of that kid being sad. She remembered how it hurt her to hear him cry back before Zym was born. How much worse would it be? Rayla really wanted to help, to tell him how to approach Ezran… but she failed to tell the news to him. How was she supposed to know where to start? She failed him and how was he supposed to listen to her… or ever to talk to her?

“I’m sorry Callum,” she said, pained by everything. Like that sorry was going to fix anything, what good was it? It didn’t matter how hurt she was by her failure, Callum wasn’t listening or considering that. He was hurt himself. ‘Sorry’ wasn’t going to bring his stepfather back. “I’m so, so sorry.” Rayla’s eyes stung when Callum turned and left, as she looked away. She really wanted to slump on her knees, hide her shameful self from the world, but she managed to get to one of the rocks on the side. At least the moon hid itself behind the passing clouds; she would be less visible.

Rayla felt awful and distraught, it was like she was losing Callum… and after that Ezran would have to follow. They would pull away from her, she would be left alone on the edge of the cliff. She tried her best to hold onto Callum, but he refused to be held… he slipped from her hands. She hugged her knee and rested her head on her clenched fist, trying to get her mind straight.

“What’s so difficult to understand that he was the one who sent them?” Rayla heard a grumbling voice of Francis. He also seemed to have just had a bad encounter, as he seemed to be so bewildered that he was grumbling to himself, restraining his gestures with great difficulty.

She really didn’t want him to know what just happened, not yet. She quietly rose to her feet. Francis stopped in his tracks. Rayla stood as still as a statue. She noticed how Francis closed his eyes and lowered his head slightly. Rayla moved as slowly as she dared.

“Stop!” Francis ordered loudly. Rayla stopped, even if he wasn’t looking up at her yet and she wasn’t sure if he was even talking to her. “Don’t leave, just sit back down.” Francis said. So he was talking to her, but he still wasn’t looking at her… so how did he know she was there? Francis finally looked at her. “I know that you maybe don’t want to talk about it, frankly you look like you want to hide. However I need to know.”

“Why?” Rayla asked, her voice full of guilt and confusion.

“Because something bad happened. I can feel that you’re distraught all the way from here and that’s something that needs to be addressed before we depart tomorrow.” Francis explained and walked over to her.

“Not before you explain to me how in Xadia did you know that I was here and how are you able to tell that I’m distraught in this dim light!” Rayla demanded, her tone getting a little out of control.

“I will,” Francis said calmly. “Just sit back down, please.” Rayla did like he asked and after a few sharp breaths she was composed. Francis sat beside her, bumping her shoulder on accident, for which he promptly apologised.

“How?” Rayla muttered.

“It’s a little hard to explain or put into words,” Francis admitted. “I can’t exactly put my finger on it, but… I can sometimes feel other people’s presence, their auras, especially during emotional outbursts or heightened reactions.” Francis sighed. “I also kind of knew you were there because I saw you out of the corner of my eye when I was walking there.” Rayla held her head with both of her hands. This had already been too much and now this – a more confusing answer. She didn’t have the energy or will left to ask him to elaborate his explanation. How long had he been hiding that for anyway? Francis put his hand on his heart. “Look, I’ve only found this out very recently and I’m not sure if it’s even a thing, it happens randomly. It may be just dumb luck or a coincidence. What’s more important is what happened to you?”

Rayla sighed. Why did he always have to be right and compassionate? “You probably know.” Rayla tried to close herself off, but Francis wasn’t having any of that.

“I do love figuring stuff out, but Rayla, we need to sort this out before we leave. Playing a guessing game while we still have Soren and Claudia on our tails does not sound like a viable option, so let’s save up time and get it over with.” Francis put his massive hand on her shoulder. It felt so incredibly light and comforting.

“It’s about Callum,” Rayla said with an even heavier sigh. Opening up still felt alien to her, only close friends and family were supposed to know one’s emotional state in their culture, but she did owe him an explanation. If anyone could help lead them out of trouble, it was Francis.

“You told him and he didn’t react well?” Francis tried to help.

“Worse…” Rayla looked away and shook his hand off of her shoulder. She didn’t deserve any of Francis’s attempts to help or comfort her. “I didn’t get to tell him the news. I got beaten to it.”

“By who?” Francis asked still maintaining his immense composure.

Rayla looked back to tell him, but she immediately frowned when she saw her answer walking in their direction. Francis picked up her shift and turned to look at Claudia. Rayla felt the urge to leave and brush past Claudia with the coldest shoulder she could ever experience.

As she was about to get up, Francis caught her by her wrist and pulled her back down. “I’ve got this.” He said. Rayla maintained her glower at Claudia, who guiltily held her hand. Claudia glanced at her and then quickly at Francis. She immediately looked away and hurried off as quickly as she could. Francis didn’t even say anything. Rayla looked back at him. She felt a chilling shiver down her spine, that almost made her skin crawl. There it was again, that murderous glint in his eyes and a deep darkness across his face that shone in the dim light of the night. It followed Claudia mercilessly as she disappeared into her room. It was intimidating even for Rayla and she wasn’t on the receiving end of it.

“I hate it when you do that.” Rayla said before she could stop herself. Francis face softened and the darkness was lifted.

“I’m sorry, sometimes it needs to be done, even if I dislike it.” Francis said solemnly, glancing away from her. “If it comforts you, I could never do anything like that to you… any of you.” Rayla was unsure how to respond to that, but she didn’t get the chance, as Francis honed back in on her. “Did Callum say anything to you?”

“Does it matter?” Rayla spat out. “I’m losing him and probably have already. I should’ve listened to you and told him earlier. Now, he will go back with his friends and it will only be a matter of time before I lose Ezran! I failed them, I’ve let them down!”

“You haven’t failed or let anyone down, Rayla.” Francis put his hand back on her shoulder, trying to soothe her. “This was never going to be easy and Callum was always going to react poorly to a death of his last parent. The only person you may have failed is yourself, only because you demand yourself to be better. I assure you, you haven’t lost him.”

“He didn’t even listen to me! All his kind heart ever thought about was how to be a good brother and tell Ezran the news.” Rayla replied.

“Trust me, he heard you. Deep down he had, his brother is just the immediate point of concern. Have faith and give it time, he will understand you and forgive you.”

“How can you be so confident?” Rayla asked, looking back at Francis, as the moon began to lighten his face from behind the cloud. There was a softness back in his eyes, a familiar song of confidence playing in his face and although he didn’t reply yet, she felt herself believe in it more.

“Because he will go through exactly the same problems with his brother now,” Francis explained. “And we all know Callum, he is sensitive and sensible. He won’t be able to break the news to Ezran, I’m sure of it.” Rayla remained silent. She had to give it to Francis, he was good persuading others. “And Rayla…”

“Yes, Francis?” Rayla said, unsure of what more could be added. Suddenly she felt him pull her into a warm hug.

“You’re not a failure.” Francis said quietly. “Me and the boys are so glad and lucky to have met you and it’s so admirable to know that you keep thinking about others and how to be better yourself.”

Rayla returned the hug, but was too stunned to say any words of gratitude or appreciation that she felt wash over her. It felt so pleasant to have such good and caring friends, even if that warm moment didn’t last too long. She still kept thinking about poor Callum. “I need to find a way to make up to Callum,” she finally said after a few quiet moments, as she pulled away.

“You’ve got until he comes to you,” Francis said, much lighter now. “In the meantime, try and get some sleep. We need a clear head tomorrow.”

“That is if I can rest my head from all the thoughts that are running in it.” Rayla lamented.

“Oh, believe me, I know that feeling.” Francis said solemnly. They wished each other good night and Rayla watched him disappear into his room. Despite his soothing and persuasive abilities, there was still so much she didn’t know about him and it was becoming too big to ignore, but for now she needed to think what she was going to say to Callum.

* * *

Callum was splitting his head open over how he was going to tell Ezran the news about their father. A whirlwind of thoughts flew around, surfacing seemingly at random… then they would disappear as the next one came up.

Keep it short?

_Sorry to wake you up, but I’ve got terrible news – our father is gone…_

Maybe just open their morning with that?

_Not so good morning Ez; I’ve got terrible news – our father is gone…_

Okay, maybe lead him into it, prolong it?

_Let’s go for a walk…_

Ease him into it?

_I want to talk to you about life and growing up…_

Callum felt his eyes well up with tears. It was his stepfather’s voice who just said that. The tone so soothing and familiar. The disembodied voice belonged to a man who he felt so distant to at one point. They built up and reconnected very slowly and surely, Callum almost felt like he was family, not just whatever the stupid nickname ‘step-prince’ meant. Yet, Harrow never got to hear Callum call him ‘dad’… that moment was snatched away by Moonshadow assassins. Rayla was one of them. Callum felt so betrayed that Rayla didn’t tell him. How could she be so selfish to keep something like that a secret? Callum bitterly slumped by Ezran’s bed. He sobbed quietly, afraid to wake up his sweet and innocent little brother, that curled onto Zym and Bait. He looked so happy and tranquil, he couldn’t bring himself to disturb him and ruin it.

_Right now is not the perfect time. It will have to wait until tomorrow._

* * *

Claudia was dismayed. She barely managed to calm her brother down and tell him that Callum didn’t hurt her. He was very cute when he was so overprotective and she loved him for it. She didn’t tell him though why she had dried up tears on her cheeks. It felt almost out of this world that before she told him about King Harrow that they were on a date, about to kiss. She got in bed, not even changing her clothes. She pressed her body together, laying on top of the duvet and stared into her ceiling.

That kiss… what a magical moment it could’ve been? But she couldn’t bring herself to keep that secret from Callum. It hurt her to say it and it annihilated him to hear it. Claudia sighed. Soren was right when he reminded her that they were still on a mission. They needed to bring the princes and the dragon back home. She couldn’t let them go; she had to do what was right.

Even if Callum knew that Soren lied, Claudia was sure that he wouldn’t listen to or trust that elf ever again. Callum was empty of magic, grieving and lost and she was certain that at this rough time he would turn to her as an old friend and a definite crush. Ezran would follow him, there was no way he was ever going to separate from his brother. Francis standing in the way would only worsen the situation for him, as Callum would certainly want to be allowed to make his choice. All she had to do was to wait for him to come to her… she was sure it was the only logical conclusion – inevitable.

* * *

Callum’s head was full of resurfacing thoughts and ideas. He was sure he was delirious. He was in this awful state, where he remained on the edge of restless light sleep and painful reality.

_Didn’t she say that they came because Harro… dad, killed Thunder? Did Francis know? This is so unfair! Why do I have to bear the brunt of their vengeance? I didn’t make the choice of killing Thunder nor did I choose for my mother to marry my step-father! Why do I have to pay for my father’s mistakes and actions? Why did they want to kill Ezran? Didn’t Francis say he chased them all the way from Katolis? Didn’t Rayla want to come back in the tower with him? Could he have saved father?_

He lost track of time, it was awful. He seemed to blink in and out of consciousness at random and no matter how exhausted he was he wasn’t able to fall asleep. He was so tired, he thought he began to see things. Dark shapes fazed in and out of the frame of his eyesight, making Callum’s heart rate jump up. This was yet another time he cursed his artistic mind, this would be running vividly in his mind and dreams. Callum screwed shut his eyes. None of this was real, he knew that… yet he couldn’t just wish away the fact that his father was gone and the fact he needed to tell Ezran that.

He blinked his eyes open for a split second. He swore he shut the door when he entered… but right now, it was left slightly open. Callum shut his eyes again and must have drifted off, because when he opened his eyes up again it was lighter, the door was shut and there were no more dark figures roaming about in his periphery. He shifted his legs and came in contact with something. Callum blinked some of his grogginess out of his eyes, as the object in question came into focus. It was his sketchbook… and it wasn’t strapped onto his straps. His pencil was sticking out of one of the pages. This was definitely not his doing, he never disconnected his book from the straps, unless he was showing his pictures… and even then he preferred to just get the straps off of himself. He tentatively reached out to the book to take a look.

“Callum?” Ezran yawned.

“Morning Ez,”Callum replied automatically, attaching the book back to his straps and slinging it over his shoulder.

“Is everything okay?” Ezran asked. “You have bags underneath your eyes. Did you not sleep well?”

“Let’s go for a walk.” Callum totally avoided the question and thankfully his brother didn’t pursue it any further.

“Okay,” he said, lazily getting out of bed still sluggish with sleep. “I had another weird dream.”

“About?” Callum asked as they headed outside.

“Remember the giant taffy hippopotamus?” Ezran asked. Callum nodded. “Yeah the baker was there, the one who hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you, he just would appreciate if you stopped stealing his jelly tarts.”

“They chased me for crimes against dessert and when they caught me the baker said I was jelly-filled.” Ezran continued. As much as this was a nice distraction this wasn’t the reason Callum asked him to go on a walk with him.

“Ez…” but Ezran kept talking.

“I was a pastry fugitive and the worst thing was that the baker was right – I tasted so good!”

“Ezran, I wanted to talk.” Callum said bluntly.

“Yeah, sorry,” Ezran quieted down. “About?”

Moment of truth. Callum really hoped it would get easier as he went on, but that wasn’t the case again. This was fate at its cruellest. Nothing could calm or help him. He was on his own. The early rising sun sent cold morning rays over the snowy peaks of the mountains that surrounded the caldera on their path. It was so early that no wildlife was out and about and the blueish lanterns were still on…

Paying attention to the isolating atmosphere was also not helping. Callum took a deep breath. His father’s words protruded his voice. “I wanted to talk to you about life and growing up and how sometimes there are changes you don’t expect.” Callum’s mind must have still been playing tricks on him, as he felt a fatherly hand on his shoulders. He didn’t dare to look at Ezran too long, as his eyes jumped from side to side unaware of what exactly to look at. He was afraid his eyes would give everything away, that Ezran would be able to read him like an open a book, a concept that he became painfully aware of over the last few days.

“Is this the talk about sandwiches?” Ezran asked.

“No!” Callum said quickly, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks and a fluster in his heart. “No, no, no, no. Absolutely not. Definitely not that. Not today.”

“Have you been taking vocabulary lessons from Francis as well?” Ezran asked. “I never heard you say ‘no’ in so many different ways before.”

“I guess he easily rubs off on others, including his intellect and eloquence.” Callum cleared his throat, he was a little thrown off. He continued speaking, without looking at Ezran. “For the longest time, I treated you like a little kid, Ezran, and that wasn’t exactly always fair. You’ve grown up so much and I’m really proud of you. But when you grow up there are changes you don’t expect. You have to face things you’re not ready for.”

“I know,” Ezran said sombrely. Callum eyes shot wide open. Ezran already knew? Did Rayla or Francis or… who told him before he found out?

In. Out. In. Out.

Callum took control over his rapidly increasing breath. Maybe he was wound up over nothing? “You know?” He checked.

“I know everyone and the whole world without knowing it is counting on me to teach Zym how to fly.” Ezran stated, clearly feeling overwhelmed with the true meaning of these words. Callum managed to not sigh relief too loudly. Ezran was unaware about dad. “But that’s only the start, someone has to teach him all the things he’s supposed to do; everything he is supposed to be. He was meant to learn all of this from a big, strong King of the Dragons… but his dad is dead and all he’s got left is me.”

There was an uncanny feeling of déjà vu that Callum got from Ezran’s words. Callum placed his brotherly hand on Ezran’s shoulder, stopping him and turning him to face him. “Ez, don’t be so hard on yourself,” he reassured. “I know it’ll be tough, but no matter what you’ve got us. Me, Francis, Rayla… probably Bait. We’re all here for you.”

“Thanks, Callum, that means a lot to hear.” Ezran said and Callum felt much better… only for a few fleeting fragments of a second. “But I really wish dad was here.” Callum thanked everything in the world that Ezran turned away when he said that, as he physically flinched and hunched his shoulders. He was unable to stop the grieving sadness epitomising on his face… his lack of sleep began to remind itself to him. “I keep wondering what he would do and say to Zym. When I was little and I wouldn’t listen, dad would say, ‘Ezran, you’re a handful!’ so I tried the same the thing with Zym, ‘Azymondias, you’re a handful!’ but he doesn’t understand. He doesn’t even have hands!” Ezran slapped himself in the face at that, he probably should have asked Francis if the words ‘ _pawful_ ’ or ‘ _wingful_ ’ existed. “I guess I just really miss dad. He would know what to do, you know?” Ezran looked back at Callum and narrowed his eyes at him, clearly something was giving Callum away. He wasn’t as good of an actor as Francis was. Ezran’s face fell immediately. “Callum, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing Ez,” Callum feigned a sleepy eye-scratch to wipe a few tears that escaped his eyes. “I just really miss him too.” Those words only scratched the surface of how much he really missed him; how much pain panged at his heart at the thought that Ezran didn’t yet know that he would never see him again.

Callum embraced him in a comforting hug, whether for himself or Ezran, he wasn’t sure. He held him for a long time, anxious that if he let go Ezran would somehow just… know. He couldn’t bring himself to tell Ezran… to hurt Ezran. He didn’t take his chance and now to come back on track to telling him was far more difficult that it seemed before. It was almost as though someone told him that and inadvertently warned him about it.

He heard footsteps stagger to a stop, forcing him to open his eyes. Francis looked apologetic as his hands went up.

“ _I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your ‘brother’ moment_.” He signed. Callum let go of Ezran.

“Good morning, Francis,” Callum’s voice trembled slightly. Ezran turned around and immediately Callum saw his brother’s mood lift up.

“Francis, good morning!” Ezran said with a little more chirp in his voice, running to him.

“Callum, Ezran, good morning! You’re up incredibly early by your standards.” Francis said brightly. “I apologise I interrupted your tender moment. I was on my way to wash my face and have my daily workout session.”

“Don’t you do that with Rayla?” Ezran asked, reminding Callum of her.

“Oh, I decided to give her a break.” Francis replied. “I don’t think she got much sleep… similar to Callum by the looks of it. She was sitting on the bench by the table, last time I checked.” Francis said the last bit looking at Callum.

“I hope she is okay,” Ezran said. “Why didn’t she sleep?” Francis shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t know, she seemed in deep thought, so I decided not to intrude her.” Francis said. “She looked guilty, maybe she’s just waiting to apologise and explain herself to someone.”

“Okay, that’s awfully specific.” Ezran said pensively.

“I’m an awfully specific and scientific man, Ezran.” Francis smirked lightly. “Especially when I’m about to go do my training session.”

“Can I watch you train?” Ezran asked.

“Sure thing,” Francis said. “Speaking of training, how is your training with Zym going?”

“I’m trying, but it has been very difficult.” Ezran admitted.

“How about I try and help you, if he’s awake?” Francis offered.

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Let me go and get him.” Ezran ran off back to their room, leaving Callum and Francis on their own.

“Do you know about dad?” Callum asked quietly, still afraid that somehow Ezran would hear.

“Yes,” Francis said simply. “Is that why you were here? You tried to tell him?”

Callum nodded sadly looking up at him. “Why did you not tell me?” He asked.

“It will take too long to explain,” Francis began. “Ezran will be back before I would be able to answer that question. I’ve already talked about it in the sketchbook, so whilst we’re gone and you’re ready, you can read it.”

“You were the one who touched my sketchbook?”

“Yeah, sorry again. I found it very difficult to awake you from your slumber, you’ve had a tough day as it was. I wanted to let you rest, even if your sleep looked turbulent and spasmodic. I said everything I needed to say in the sketchbook.”

“Are we ready?” Ezran called over. “Because we certainly are.” Zym chirped happily trying to jump from Ezran’s hands onto Francis’s shoulders.

“All right, let’s go.” Francis said, but before they left Ezran stopped him.

“Hey Francis, me and Callum were discussing about dad.” Callum tensed again. “You came after us from Katolis. Did you get a chance to see or speak to dad?”

Francis surreptitiously glanced at Callum, who was behind Ezran. “ _Please don’t tell him_ ,” Callum signed panickily. “ _I want to be the one to tell him. Promise me you won’t tell him_.”

Francis blinked in agreement. There was a knowing look in his overlooking eyes. “No I didn’t.” Francis replied. Callum had no idea how hurt Francis was to lie to Ezran, even if it was technically the truth. He hid it masterfully beneath his warm demeanour. He was also masterful at changing the subject. “Ezran have you washed your face?”

“Yes.” Ezran answered quickly.

“That’s a lie.” Francis said with a cheeky smirk.

“The water is so cold.” Ezran bemoaned, not even attempting to defend himself.

“That’s the whole point.” Francis laughed and dragged the giggling Ezran with him, leaving Callum on his own.

When Callum stopped hearing Ezran’s loud laughter, he took the book and went to the page bookmarked by the pencil. The page was written in elegantly silky hand writing, that looked like thought went into every single word and curve on that page. Callum would have easily been able to guess that it was Francis’s meticulous writing. Callum doubted anyone was able to put so much emotion and colour into a handwriting that it looked like the words sprung to life, begging to be noticed.

> _Dear Callum,_
> 
> _I’m very sorry for your loss. I’ve found out from Rayla what had happened overnight. I’m acutely aware of how dark you might be feeling. From the time I spent with him, your father, although of not the same blood, loved you very much. He would always mention something about you and Ezran with the proudest grin on his face, himself becoming as bright as the stars at night._
> 
> _Although not flawless, he was still a good King and an even better human. He was a pleasure to talk to and I am honoured to consider him my friend. I’ve found out about his end all the way back in Katolis, on that very dark night before I went after you._
> 
> _I’m sorry I kept it a secret from you. You may be confused or angry about why I left you in the dark, but the explanation is simple. Rayla was struggling with telling you about it and has asked me to keep it a secret. She wanted to be the one to tell you about it, because she felt responsible for what happened that night, for the choices her team made. I partly do too; I arrived too late. If I wasn’t held back at the border two weeks prior, I would’ve arrived there earlier and maybe things would’ve been different. Maybe the night wouldn’t have been so dark for all of us._
> 
> _Unfortunately, life goes on and so must we with it. It is no use to dwell too much on the past, instead we need to look around us and move forward. Remember that even after the darkest of nights, there will always be a sunrise. Your journey will always have moments where you will be in the dark and on your own. We all are inherently solitary, but I want to remind you that on this journey you’re not alone and will never be alone. We will help you: me, Rayla and Ezran will always be ready to support you with and talk to you about anything, so that the sunrise comes sooner rather than later._
> 
> _Me and Rayla will be happy to talk to you to help you cope with your grief, if you need to… especially Rayla. She feels guilty and she cares for you, more than she’s willing to admit. She really wants to make things right by you. It was touching how crestfallen she was when she thought she failed and lost you because she couldn’t hurt you. People like her will be the guiding stars in the sky that will help you navigate through the dark night that is grief. Never forget that we are here with you._
> 
> _If you can’t tell Ezran, I can of course be the one that breaks the news, but I think it wouldn’t be right for me to tell him about your family._
> 
> _I’m sorry about everything and please don’t be afraid to ask for help,_
> 
> _Francis_
> 
> _Post Scriptum._
> 
> _I felt like a nuisance if I kept coming to you asking if you wanted to talk about it, which is why I decided to write in this book instead. I promise I started from the back and didn’t look at any of your drawings. I would like to apologise again for doing it this way… I just want you to be okay._

Callum tried his best not to let tears drip onto the page. This wasn’t any less painful, but at the very least it felt like darkness could pass and that light would come eventually. Now he fully understood how much of an impact this journey had on him and how deeply his new friends cared about him. He felt regret in his chest for how he treated Rayla last night. He didn’t even give her a chance to explain herself, he shut her out. Back then he didn’t fully understand how it was possible to hide something this big, but considering he struggled to tell Ezran about it and the letter he got from Francis, he understood the dilemma she went through. Even if she had let him down, she didn’t betray or manipulate him… she cared about him, not the mission.

Callum went over to the dinner tables slowly, bracing himself from getting too emotional. Just as Francis had told him, Rayla was sitting on the bench, resting her hands and chin on the table. She looked so dejected and Callum felt like there was a needle pinning and panging at his heart. He could now see how the loss of his father affected Rayla. He was too blind with anger and grief to see that before.

Callum took a deep breath and sat beside her. “I couldn’t do it,” he said gravely. “I couldn’t tell him.”

Rayla shifted to straighten herself and look at Callum. “Callum… I…” she trailed off.

“I understand why you couldn’t tell me,” Callum continued. “When you care about someone, it is hard to hurt them, even if you’re simply telling him the truth.”

“I still should have told you,” Rayla insisted. “You had the right to know.”

“Maybe I did know, deep down,” Callum felt his lip quiver slightly. He wasn’t going to hold on much longer. “I hoped that if I didn’t think about it, that somehow he’ll be alive, that it wasn’t true…” Callum looked at Rayla, her eyes were so soft, sympathetic and apologetic. How was he able to shut her out so bluntly early on? Callum felt a tear escape his eye and trickle down his cheek. “But he’s gone… he’s really gone… and that’s the truth.” He covered his eyes as the tears broke through. He sobbed and sobbed and sobbed, it was all coming out. He felt Rayla shift closer to him and put her hand around him. Callum turned and buried his face in her shoulder. He was glad that she held him. He really wasn’t alone and he didn’t have to face this entirely on his own.

* * *

Callum and Rayla were heading back to prepare for their departure. Callum was still piecing things together, the death of his step-father still fresh on his mind. Everything about Rayla’s behaviour slowly began to make sense.

“So when Soren said that dad wanted us home, you knew he was lying.” Callum said. Rayla nodded in agreement. “Unless maybe he was also trying to protect my feelings?” He asked naively.

“Yeah, because Soren definitely seems like the thoughtful, sensitive, feelings-y, protect-y kind of guy.” Rayla said sarcastically.

“Yeah, that’s not his style.” Callum agreed.

“Good which is why we need to leave now! Before they even realise we’re gone!” Rayla insisted.

“Woah, they’re still my friends.” Callum argued. “We can’t just leave them without…”

“Leave?” Came the inquisitive voice of Claudia.

Callum turned to find Claudia and Soren walking towards them. “Yeah, we can’t come back home. The mission is too important.” Callum explained.

“But your dad…” Soren began only to get elbowed in the side by his sister.

“Soren! Ugh, what is wrong with you?” Claudia asked angrily, whilst Rayla glowered at him like she was setting him ablaze.

“I’m just trying to…” Soren tried to defend himself.

“No! Just stop it!” Claudia shouted.

“Fine! Do whatever you want!” Soren gave up and stormed off into the forest, punching a few trees on his path and getting swarmed by disturbed moths. “Stupid moths!” Could be heard off in the distance.

“I’m so sorry about him,” Claudia said, scratching her wrist. “Before you go, I need to give something to you, Callum.”

“All right.” Callum agreed.

Rayla was about to reluctantly follow them, but Claudia put her hand up at her. “It’s in my room and I want to speak in private.” She said firmly.

“Oh,” Callum said, very obviously blushing. Rayla looked at both of them unimpressed and went back to the princes’ room.

Claudia quickly shuffled through some stuff behind her bed and Callum was very pleasantly surprised when she produced his backpack, the one he forgot all the way back in Katolis. Callum felt a cold sweat brush over him. There were several things that he packed on that fateful day: his clothes, ‘The secrets of Xadia’ and… King Harrow’s letter. His last ever words addressed to him still unopened, still unspoken. It was like his essence still remained in this world, held together by the king’s seal. Break it and suddenly he would really be gone, impossible to return.

“Are you holding up well, Callum?” Claudia snapped him out of his stupor.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Callum said hesitantly. Had it been the previous day, he would have confessed, but he felt a little wary of Soren’s recent lie. He suddenly felt like he wanted to keep a little more to himself. He felt… suspicious, unwillingly so. “Thank you, Claudia, for carrying this all the way here.”

“You’re welcome,” Claudia sounded heartfelt. “I guess this is a goodbye.” Claudia walked over to him and hugged him tightly. Callum now suddenly felt a little better, although he didn’t immediately lean into her embrace.

“I’m sorry it has to be this way.” Callum muttered into her ear. “I wish we didn’t have to go our separate ways.” He was about to pull away, but Claudia held him back.

“Wait… actually…” she whispered back. “We don’t have to separate…”

* * *

Watching Ezran try to manage Zym and Bait was a very surreal and hilarious experience. If Francis was grinning and gawking, then Rayla was laughing non-stop. It was such a nice distraction from the realities of the world, about to be torn open with war between humans and elves. At least, Francis could keep all of that to himself while the kids had their fun.

“You’re looking a little too bright at a struggling Ezran.” Rayla shot at Francis.

“I can’t help but think that this is a satirical metaphor for me trying to keep a hold on all of you.” Francis quipped.

“Of course not,” Rayla chuckled. “We’re not animals.”

“You’re worse than that,” Francis noted sarcastically. “You’re kids, you have a better functioning rhetoric and a way better built logical thinking.”

“Oh Francis and his smart sounding words.” Rayla teased.

“Which one is Rayla?” Ezran suddenly asked.

“Bait.” Francis didn’t even miss a beat, his response was instantaneous.

“What? Are you serious?” Rayla asked furiously.

“Are _you_ serious?” Francis mocked. “Have you seen yourself in a mirror when you’re grumpy?”

“Yeah, you are quite a sight when you’re grumpy… especially when you pout.” Ezran added.

“Right, Ez?” Francis looked at him then back at the annoyed Rayla. “Look, she’s even changing colours. Look how red she is!”

Rayla crossed her hands at that, clearly not realising how ironic it was when she angrily pouted at them. “Yeah, I definitely constantly demand food and dampen other people’s moods.” She said bitterly. Bait didn’t appreciate her comments and croaked annoyingly at her.

“Hey, at least you get your own animal.” Francis said. “Ezran and Callum are both Azymondias, because… you know, princes.”

Rayla didn’t particularly look uplifted and seemed to sulk even harder. “Great! I get to be a grumpy looking flashing frog. What an honour.”

“You know what Rayla, you’re a very complicated and demanding being.” Francis said with an infectious smile on his face. “I have to be very careful with my words around you constantly. I can’t just say, ‘lend you a hand’ or ‘whatever floats your boat’, because that might bring back some traumatising memories!” Francis locked eyes with Rayla and he could see that she was trying her hardest to hold back her smile.

“Yeah, meeting and being with you was traumatising.” She retorted.

Francis snorted. “I’m glad I left an impression, I always had that effect on people,” he pointed out. Before Rayla could respond, their conversation was interrupted by Callum entering the room. He looked a little uncertain.

“Let me guess. Once I was gone, Claudia tried to manipulate you and convince you to come home?” Rayla suggested.

“No, she didn’t,” Callum said with more than a hint of exasperation. “She gave me my backpack that I forgot back in Katolis.” Callum turned to face his friends. “Claudia understands our position.”

“Huh,” Rayla mused and so did Francis. “Surprisingly good news.”

“Yeah, she understands it so well, that she and Soren want to join us.” Callum finished.

“What?” Francis and Rayla said at the same time, before Francis continued. “And you just accepted that?”

“Yeah.”

“This is the worst possible scenario!” Rayla grumbled.

“How? They’re offering to help? They’re my friends!” Callum argued.

“I can’t believe this!” Francis stated. “You can’t just accept _your_ friends into _our_ mission, _our_ team, without conversing with us first! This is not how teams work and you can’t go on like that!”

“Also it’s a trap!” Rayla added to Francis’s argument, which was by far the more pressing concern.

“Look, Francis, I know that you and Soren have a bitter rivalry…” Callum started.

“ _He_ has a rivalry with me, I’ve moved on a long time ago.” Francis once again was correcting him.

“… and Rayla, I know that you and Claudia have frankly the worst first impressions of each other…”

“Then please tell me,” Francis silenced Callum. “If you know that, then why do you think it’s a good idea of letting them join us?”

“Because they’re my old friends!” Callum argued. “I trust them and they’re reliable. We can weather through this all together!”

“Ezran,” Francis said turning to him. “Can you get Ellis and Ava, please?”

“Yeah, sure,” Ezran agreed. “Now?”

“Right this instant.” Francis said urgently. He watched Ezran leave and waited long enough until he was happy that Ezran didn’t linger. Francis finally broke the silence, choosing however to speak quietly. “Do I need to remind you who’s children those are?”

“Why is that important?” Callum snarked.

“Because Viren was about to be crowned King when you all escaped the Banther Lodge.” Francis spoke convincingly. “It seems very weird to me that your good old friends didn’t bother to check the Banther Lodge, but instead came all the way here!”

“So?”

“I hate to break it to you, but I have to make you face reality.” Francis said gravely looking downward. “Your friends aren’t exactly here for you. It was extremely suspicious to me how Claudia behaved around Zym, practically drawn to it instantaneously. You surely noticed that?” Callum responded with silence. “The whole zipline thing that Soren built, with the way he stiffened every time I said the word ‘accident’, I feel he wanted one to happen. I also don’t think it’s a coincidence that Soren and Claudia are children of Lord Viren, the ambitious Dark Mage that was about to get crowned in your absence. He would certainly be prevented from becoming King or removed as one once it came to light that you’re all still alive. This is not help; this is a trap.”

Callum stayed silent, looking a little disheartened. He really wanted all of them to be together and get along… but instead he would have to choose a pair to go with. Would he go with Rayla and Francis to Eastern Xadia or would he choose Claudia and Soren and return to Katolis? And surely Ezran would stick with whatever Callum chose, right? He really didn’t want to lose two more close people that day, he already found out about the loss of magic and his step-father. Although it looked like he would have to give up on two friends that day, he still naively hoped that all four of them could go together.

“I agree with Francis. I’m certain that the zipline was a trap.” Callum remained silent. He remained reluctant to fully sway, to believe what Francis and Rayla were saying was true. His eyes averted the both of them, so Rayla pleaded. “Callum, please, if we let them come with us then we’ll lose everything.”

“So how can we know if this is help or a trap?” Callum asked bitterly.

“Well, I’m glad you asked,” Francis said nonchalantly. “We are going to set a trap ourselves and if they do anything wrong, it would spring.”

“Why do I get a feeling like you’ve done this before and with great success?” Rayla asked the rhetorical question laced with sarcasm.

“Because I have and this has to work.” Francis responded calmly. “This has to be as risk averse as possible, so we’ll use everything available to us.”

“Francis, you asked for us?” Ellis and Ava came in, with Ezran trailing behind them.

“Yes, I’ll need your help.” Francis called them over.

“Do you even need us?” Rayla teased. “You seem to have already worked out a plan.”

“A template yes, but I’m still not sure about one thing. I don’t want Callum and Ezran to be anywhere near the Trouble Siblings, but they kind of have to be there…” Francis mused. Everyone else seemed to catch onto the dilemma, as everyone looked pensively around.

“Is there a way we could disguise two people pretending to be the princes while the real Callum and Ezran stay to the side?” Rayla thought out loud. Francis flicked his fingers at her.

They locked eyes and slowly they widened, as if they were transmitting their thought processes to each other. “Lujanne’s illusions! You’re a genius!” They both said at the same time, as a grin splattered across their faces. Rayla produced her fist and Francis duly indulged her, pumping it with his own. The two warriors of the team were really on the same wavelength.

“I would pretend to understand what’s going on, but apparently I belong in a library and can’t keep my feelings secret.” Callum said pointedly and not at all brightly.

Francis quickly ran through his plan. It was a sound plan, but it wasn’t perfect. There was one extremely big obstacle. Rayla picked up on it far easier than Francis anticipated… and it was a deal-breaker for her.

“There is no way you’re coming with us!” Rayla protested.

“There is no way I’m leaving you, Ellis and Ava in danger!” Francis retorted. Back at the Banther Lodge, he hated leaving Marcos to do the most dangerous part of his plan, he really didn’t want to go through that again.

“You’re going to have to!” Rayla hammered her point. “Soren and Claudia are not going to do everything under your watchful eye. If you’re out of the frame, then their intentions are going to be far clearer. You can’t be there with us, besides you should stay with Callum and Ezran… just in case.”

Francis’s face expressed unbearable grouch. He hated losing… even if Rayla was right. He really, really, really hated leaving Rayla, Ellis and Ava on their own on a date with danger… especially Rayla. Soren and Claudia wouldn’t hesitate to kill her at all and Rayla would be too honourable and frankly, proud to run away. She was confrontational; backing away from a fight was not her style. If they wanted to convince Callum, there was no other way. They weren’t incapable and defenceless after all.

Francis sighed. “Why do you have to make such a good point?” He griped begrudgingly.

“Because I’m right… and I win.” Rayla proclaimed.

Francis turned to the rest of the kids, since it was mostly a dialogue between him and Rayla. Understandably, Callum didn’t want to believe that his old friends betrayed him and was reluctant to contribute, while Ellis and Ezran couldn’t really contribute much. None of them had any experience in military tactics… or any sort of tactics and strategy yet. Rayla was the only one who could hold up any sort of conversation with him about it and even then she lacked the vast rich knowledge and experience that Francis possessed. They had only agreed on one plan, but Francis had branching back-up plans. He always had after everything he conjured up. He wasn’t joking when he said he would use everything available to him. Unbeknownst to everyone, he had a wildcard up his sleeve – someone who patiently remained in the shadows all this time from everyone other than him. Francis couldn’t afford the plan to fail… whatsoever!

“Did everyone get that?” Francis checked and when everyone nodded, he turned to Ezran. “Ezran, you need to do your absolute best and use anything to hide that adorable little baby dragon into the bag!”

* * *

“Ugh, where are the princes?” Soren asked Rayla impatiently, as he stretched. Francis glanced at him disapprovingly, but Soren was too focused on getting the most out of his squats.

“They’ll be here soon,” Rayla replied calmly. “Ezran is still packing his dragon.”

“It has been a pleasure having you all here,” Lujanne spoke to the group. “I truly have enjoyed you all sneaking past my defences and desecrating this sacred place these past few days. It will be lonely. Quiet… but lonely without you.”

“Sorry about that,” Francis spoke.

“You’re welcome,” Soren said absentmindedly, focusing on the stretch. Claudia incredulously glowered at him.

“… I should have kept them all in line.” Francis continued. “This shouldn’t have happened.”

“If it bothers you so much, you can stay behind and help clean up?” Lujanne asked inconspicuously. In reality, Francis knew that his team didn’t mess anything up, though loudness was an issue even he himself struggled with sometimes.

“Like Francis knows anything about Moonshadow elf culture.” Soren said sceptically.

“Oh, you haven’t even heard their debate.” Rayla said convincingly. “You would be surprised, but he knows more about Eastern Xadia than even I do.” She said the last bit with a slight scold.

“All right, I’ll catch up with all of you once I fix everything here.” Francis elaborated. “We should set out quickly, so say your goodbyes.”

“I’ll miss you so much.” Ellis hugged Lujanne.

“You and your little one will always be welcomed back here.” Lujanne said. Francis snorted despite himself; Ava wasn’t so little anymore. Lujanne produced the moonstone collar. “You don’t need the illusion anymore but I hope it serves as a reminder that someone is always looking out for you.” Lujanne fixed the collar around Ava’s neck and it glowed and flashed. As if right on call, the illusions of Callum and Ezran walked towards Rayla, with an illusion of Zym being cradled in Ezran’s hands.

“Right, we’re all here. Let’s hit the road.” Rayla said.

“Right, time to get to the magical land and do whatever.” Soren said dryly.

“Don’t be gone for too long!” Rayla told Francis, who simply nodded. His concerned eyes must have given him away, as Rayla exhaled sharply and rolled her eyes. There was a small smile that surfaced on her shaking head. His fussing must have been a little bothersome and exasperating to her now, borderline amusing.

Francis watched Rayla, Ellis, Ava, Soren, Claudia and the faux-princes leave. Worry swallowed him as soon as they disappeared into the forest… and there was nothing he could do about it. This couldn’t fail. It was out of his control once again and he loathed it.

“Francis?” Ezran and Callum checked on him.

“Just hate the fact I have to leave Ellis, Ava and Rayla in danger.” Francis said gravely.

“They’ll be fine.” Ezran reassured.

“Besides, Soren and Claudia are going to turn out fine.” Callum said optimistically. Francis faltered, he really doubted it was true and with all that Callum went through already this was going to rub even more salt into a gaping wound. Francis considered advising Callum to not get his hopes up, but Callum reluctantly refused to believe it before… so it wouldn’t help now. Francis opted to remain silent.

“Rayla is a good sword fighter, we all saw her train with you and you could only make her better.” Ezran said brightly. “I like her odds.”

Francis snorted. The kid just used his own words against him. What a little devil, there was no way he did subconsciously! “Me too,” he said quietly. He did have faith in Rayla’s abilities. “But it doesn’t make me worry less.”

They sat patiently next to Phoe-Phoe waiting for the signal – Ava’s howl. Callum was drawing something and Ezran was curiously watching him. Francis’s mind was out there with Rayla and Ellis, as he nervously fidgeted with his family’s crest over his heart. He hoped that if he thought about it hard enough he could send them all of his energy to make sure they would be safe. Phoe-Phoe cawed and nudged him in the shoulder.

“She’s saying that they’ll be fine.” Ezran told Francis. He must have been translating what Phoe-Phoe was saying. “She said that Rayla was far sharper ever since your sparring sessions.” Francis smiled, he wasn’t sure if Ezran added the last bit himself claiming it was Phoe-Phoe’s words. He wouldn’t put it past the kid.

Francis got up and scratched Phoe-Phoe’s head affectionately. The beautiful Moon Phoenix was extremely soft and at least it made his thumping heart more at ease. Phoe-Phoe nuzzled into his touch and close to his face, so much so that Francis rested his forehead on hers.

“Phoe-Phoe, is now too late to tell that I’m not the biggest fan of heights?” Francis whispered. Phoe-Phoe cawed in response. “Yeah, you’re right, probably should just keep going.” Francis mused with a smirk on his face, then looked dead into the bird’s eyes. “Please don’t tell Ez, though. I don’t want him or any of them to worry about me.” Phoe-Phoe cawed and bowed its head a little and Francis assumed they reached an agreement. His lips twitched slightly upwards. Was Ezran rubbing off on him? He did just converse with an animal. “Oh, the things I do for this team…” but it wasn’t right for him or the princes to concern themselves with his distaste and mistrust of great heights. His worried heart and mind returned to concerning itself fully over the safety of Ellis and Rayla.

* * *

_Evade, please just play it safe! Use the trees!_

It was a little sickening for Rayla to know how much Francis fussed and worried. It was touching to know that someone cared that much about her and the safety of others, but they could handle themselves. They weren’t defenceless and useless, she knew it. It was surprising to see the usually stoic and iron-willed Francis turn into an uncontrollable pile of nerves over this, she would expect something like that from Callum. That surely wasn’t good for once health. Francis looked almost as tense as he was back on the lake. She almost opened her mouth to comment about it to Callum, but she reminded herself he wasn’t real.

She was glad that the Trouble Siblings, as Francis referred to them, were far behind them, probably colluding over how and when to strike. The illusions of Callum and Ezran were little empty husks devoid of life, as their movements were more stunted and clumsier than usual. They also remained uncharacteristically silent and unreactive: no wry comments, no giggling and animal whispering, no talk about drawing and magic... it boggled her mind how Callum’s old friends weren’t tipped off yet, when she could tell with a simple glance that the princes weren’t real. She quickly pushed that thought away. They needed to go through with the plan.

“Hey, it’s going to be a long journey,” Rayla said to the rest of the group and pointed off to the side. “I’m just going to go behind this bush-corner to collect some berries or something.”

Rayla turned the said corner with full alert. They were giving Soren and Claudia a one in a million opportunity on a silver platter. She was certain they would never in a million years pass this up. Rayla kneeled in front of some bush and started collecting some berries… and she felt off immediately. Something screamed to her of another presence, like there was an obnoxiously ego-fuelled aura in the vicinity. Was this what Francis meant? Well, her premonitions went off mostly because of superior elf hearing abilities… and that was the unmistakeable poorly concealed sound of someone slowly unsheathing their sword.

Rayla rolled out of the way and unsheathed her own blades. “Oh no, it’s a trap.” She deigned to say.

“Yup,” Soren said calmly.

“But why? I thought we were friends.” She continued, not even putting in the effort of sounding the least bit surprised.

“Sorry, but no. I’m just a nice guy and people get the wrong idea sometimes… kind of like Francis, the way he pretends to be nice.”

 _Pretends to be nice?_ What was Soren on about? Was it just his rival mode doing the talking?

“Ugh,” Rayla sighed. “You don’t speak sarcasm so good, do you?”

“No, I do not.” He said unironically as if to prove her point. He lunged forward at her without another word… instead he yelled obnoxiously… and pointedly loudly. She stood her ground unwaveringly. She could do this, she could hold him off… but something tugged at her in the back of her head.

_Evade! Tire him out! Use the trees!_

Somehow without being here, she could feel Francis’s presence. His request about this whole plan rang through her head. She kept parrying. Though her strength was nothing to sneer at, Soren was overpowering her steadily. She didn’t usually defend during fights, but her defensive stance really suited Soren’s bullish style.

_He will go all out! Save your strength! Don’t chance getting hurt!_

That would be cowardly for a Moonshadow elf… and for her especially to evade and go for the trees. Even if she said a throw-away comment that she would follow Francis’s advice just to calm him down and stop him fussing over her safety, she could see strategic sense in his advice. She was almost compelled to follow Francis’s advice… it was right then when Soren suddenly struck harder than usual. Her hand parried it fine, but she felt an unpleasant throb in that hand – it was the one that had been bound before. Rayla now saw greater sense in Francis’s fussing and leapt away towards a tall tree, climbing it.

“Fleeing already?” Soren taunted. “Hey, do any of the princes want to fight? This elf is a coward!” Rayla swallowed her pride and didn’t let him get under his skin.

There was a purple flash in the distance, where she left the princes. There were hissing and slithering sounds followed by heavy chaining clanks. Ava and Ellis would howl if Claudia had attacked the boy… and would you believe it, there was a wolf’s howl! In fact, there were multiple, as Ellis joined in as well. They kept howling, as the both of them made their way to where Rayla and Soren were.

Soren continued taunting Rayla, but is stopped shortly, when they heard Claudia shouting to them. “Soren! Something’s wrong! This is a trick!”

“A trick? Us? No!” Rayla remarked sarcastically.

Soren stood pensively for a beat, then his eyes widened. “Sarcasm!” He exclaimed in revelation.

Rayla wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry at the slowness of this man. “Right,” she settled for her grumpy exasperation.

“What did you do, elf?” Soren frowned and waved his sword at her, like he could threaten her with his naturally inferior dexterity and agility. Rayla thought it was such a shame that Francis couldn’t see his plan in action, since this was mostly Francis’s plan. It was working out perfectly… judging by the princes’ accounts there never seemed to be any other outcome with Francis, especially when it counted most. Reliability – what a lucky and truly a great trait to possess.

“Me? Nothing, I didn’t really do anything.” Rayla replied mockingly. “Though I can’t wait to feast my eyes upon the expression on your big, stupid face when you see this.”

“Would someone shut the wolf up?!” Soren shouted at the howling Ellis and Ava. Ellis noticed Soren’s gaze and pointedly removed the moonstone collar. And just like that, the illusions at Claudia’s feet flashed away. Rayla heard the same distinct clanking sound of chains falling to the ground.

“They’re illusions,” Claudia noted out loud.

“What?” Soren was bewildered. “Are you saying they’re not real?” Oh gosh, this was getting annoying for Rayla. How could this man be so slow?

“That’s the definition of ‘illusion’, Soren!” Claudia snapped. Clearly it must have sucked to deal with that slowness on a regular, daily even, basis… at least Ellis was finding it funny.

Enraged, Soren sprinted at Ellis and Ava, raising his sword at them. Rayla’s heart stilled, he acted without a second thought. Was he really fine with hurting a kid? Thankfully, Ava was quick and was able to dodge Soren’s attacks and run away. Ellis being a kid, found perfect time to pull mocking grimaces at Soren.

“Where are the princes?” He exclaimed with great ire. As if right on cue, there was a flash in the sky. Phoe-Phoe made an entrance carrying the princes and a slightly tense looking Francis.

“We’re here!” Francis shouted. “There!” He pointed to where Rayla sat in a tree. Phoe-Phoe glided over it, spreading its paw to give Rayla something to grab on. She graciously jumped and grabbed onto it.

They were on their way, everything was good. The team got out unscathed. Phoe-Phoe was flying in the air, when suddenly she jolted and yelped, as if grabbed. A large, translucent red hot and icy blue tentacle grabbed Phoe-Phoe, its lurid suckers sinking around Phoe-Phoe’s body. Rayla was violently flung around, as she desperately held on.

“Okay, I can’t grab the tentacle.” Francis shouted. “My hand goes right through it! Anyone got anything to throw at Claudia?”

“I’ve got nothing,” Rayla shouted, not even questioning the incredible distance that was between them and Claudia.

“With all due respects Rayla, just focus on holding on, please.” Francis responded, his outer resolve a little betrayed by the allegro in his voice.

“Claudia, please don’t do this!” Callum begged, holding his brother as tightly as he could.

“I’m sorry Callum, but I don’t think that’s going to work.” Francis said earnestly. “I really wish now you didn’t forget the stale bread, they would make for effective throwing objects.” Francis’s eyes were dashing madly around the surrounding area. He searched for something in the trees with great scrutiny.

Claudia pulled them closer and closer to the ground. Phoe-Phoe tried her best to break free, flapping her wings and screeching with effort. Francis continued mumbling to himself. “Come on please, you were supposed to be our back-up…”

“Stop!” They heard a shout and the team saw Claudia collapse to the side, as her hand was pulled by a bladed fleur-de-lis, attached to a long chain. “Let them go!”

“Thank you, Corvus.” Francis mumbled to himself, sighing relief. Phoe-Phoe escaped the chaining tentacles and sore away quickly.

Francis looked back just in time to wince at the sight. Soren stood above the stunned body of Corvus, with a rock in his hand. He must have hit him in the head. That was going to hurt in the morning, but at least he protected the princes… and saved them all. He waved at Ellis and Ava, who waved back. They helped a lot and kept good company after all, he just hoped that they would get away from Soren and Claudia.

Rayla, with Callum’s help, climbed onto Phoe-Phoe and grinned victoriously at Francis. Their plan had worked, they got the Trouble Siblings! Francis frowned in response and craned his head at Callum, urging her to look behind her. In all of their success, Callum was left unhappy… and looked depressingly dark.

* * *

Two more. First magic. Then his step-father. Now his oldest friends. What was life going to take away next? There was a sinking feeling in Callum’s stomach. He was too stubborn to listen to his friends, they warned him. They were right all this time. How could someone who got to know him over one week care more about him than people who knew him for years? Callum felt himself shut-off, he felt absolutely nothing. The sounds were muted and the colours were dulled. He barely registered anything.

“Wow, that is one breath-taking view.” Callum just about heard Francis ponder, who was unusually rigid and was clutching hard to Phoe-Phoe’s neck. “It just makes you realise how small you and everything else is, yet there is just so much to discover about our world!”

“I didn’t know you were so sentimental.” Rayla quipped back.

“I guess you don’t know me well.” Francis replied. Rayla’s shoulders sagged at that and when Francis looked back, his brow furrowed at her.

Was Callum even breathing? Clearly, since it felt a little too quick for his liking. Callum felt useless, his friends had to set up a trap just to prove a point that should have been obvious from the start! In fact, he recognised that he hadn’t contributed at all during its planning, it was mostly Francis and Rayla. He was sat to the side, so that he wouldn’t get in the way of anything.

“We’re flying up in the sky.” Ezran’s voice flickered across to him, as he heard the fading whimpering of Zym, clutching tightly into Ezran’s shoulders. “Want to see how flying feels?” Ezran thrusted Zym above him and he spread his wings.

Callum hadn’t registered any of the sounds that followed: the sound of chittering and squeaking Zym and the laughter of his friends. Instead he felt the dreary emptiness consume him once more, a feeling he familiarised himself with over the past few days. He wasn’t falling… yet, although that course of action was more possible now.

Callum kept looking behind him, where Claudia would have been a few hours previously. There was a vivid image in his head: her shining purple eyes turn black… black, like the harrowing darkness congregating in his empty soul.

But something brought him out of that… a touch, a hand on his shoulder. He turned sharply, almost startled… and then he saw her eyes. Rayla’s shining eyes were the first things he noticed; they were of similar purple colour pallet, but they were far lighter, a far pleasant violet.

_She cares for you, more than she’s willing to admit._

There was a reassuring softness to her crinkling eyes, that somehow turned even softer when she smiled at him. There was a beautifully captivating light in her eyes, that immediately filled Callum with ease and hope.

_You’re not alone; we will help you. Never forget that we are here with you._

Callum noticed the brightly lit Ezran and Zym, his clear as day laugh filling the sky around him. There was a smile tugging out of the corner of Francis’s mouth, who judging by his rattling cape and the forelock that sliced the air, was shielding them from the prevailing wind.

“I see you picked ‘the flying metaphor’ out from my tactic’s book.” He joked to Ezran.

Suddenly everything had colour, stronger and more vibrant. The sounds were louder… or maybe he could hear better. Rayla and the rest have brought him out from his dark thoughts towards the magical atmosphere exuding from all of them, adding to the world around them. Callum straightened his back, as Rayla looked to the rest of the team. His friends deserved better and he would do everything to deserve them as well. He wanted to be useful and magic was his calling. He wouldn’t sit still, feeling sorry for himself and his losses. He would look for a way back.

_I will do magic, it’s who I am…_

_… I just want you to be okay._


	14. Blindly Following

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following their escape from the Trouble Siblings, the team had to cross the bay with a very unfortunate name, whilst navigating through their personal issues. Meanwhile Viren had an intriguing breakthrough, that left him facing with a grave decision.

Viren sat religiously in front of the mirror in his dungeon. He lost count of hours spent in that chamber, but it didn’t matter. He had a breakthrough, progress. The mirror revealed a clean room that was meticulously speck less. It was brightly lit by a grandiose window in a light blue hue. Viren definitely noted a presence of another person in whatever that place was. There were books and tomes stacked on the desk, that belonged to stone bookshelves that surrounded the dying embers of a fireplace. The place looked classy and well maintained, as the floors seemingly reflected their surroundings. Where was this place and where was the person who looked after it?

Viren lit another candle and stuck it to the chair as he continued to inspect the mirror. He would not care how many more hours he had to sink into waiting, he already spent months trying to discover the mirror’s secrets. He was in too deep and there was no way he was giving up on months of dedicated work. Despite everything, he always got results, no matter the cost.

At one point he drifted off. When he recoiled into consciousness he silently cursed to himself. He hoped he hadn’t missed anything, but that wasn’t true. The fire was now going strong in the fireplace.

Viren nearly gave up for the day, when he saw the door in the mirror swing open. There was a shadow standing in the doorway, pure white light shining behind him. The figure strode elegantly into the room. He routinely flicked his fingers and the door obeyed, shutting behind him. With a simple unceremonious wave of his hand, he made his room a little brighter.

Viren scanned the figure with great interest, it wore a black cloak with golden edges. The inside of the cloak was purple, like some of the clothes that the figure wore. Towards the bottom half of the cloak, the black tone turned lighter and it was littered with white dots – some brighter, some smaller. They were akin to stars in the black sky.

Viren’s eyes widened; he had never seen anything like this before. The skin on the hands of the figure was also glowing with those stars. Viren was puzzled. Who exactly was this person? The figure sharply turned to stare at the mirror. Viren froze. He was exposed! How would he explain his intrusion?

The figure approached the frame of the mirror with measured steps. Viren composed himself. Maybe…? The figure stopped in front of the mirror and carefully eyed something. His hand reached up… and he fixed the lapels on his shoulders. The figure couldn’t see him.

Viren took the opportunity to inspect the mysterious person even closer. He had shining golden irises and white flashing stars dotted under his eyes, like freckles. Underneath the hood Viren could see the pure white hair of the stranger. Viren was almost confident enough to conclude that the mysterious stranger was an elf, but an elf he had never seen or heard of before.

Viren frowned, he thought he read through every single book in the Katolis’s library, he prided himself in that! He would have to revisit his personal collection and research what this elf could potentially be.

The elf seemingly satisfied with how he looked, sighed. His eyes were pensive and a little… disappointed? Discouraged? Disheartened? His eyes hovered unknowingly over Viren’s face. Viren knew he wasn’t visible to the stranger, but it still sent shivers down his spine when he eyed him like that.

Suddenly the face frowned, almost stubbornly. The elf’s hand rose and with his sheer will summoned the flames from the fireplace into his hand as he defiantly squashed it. The room turned into complete darkness. Viren narrowed his eyes and got closer to the mirror, but it was pointless. There was nothing, the mirror was completely black… and it stayed like that for a bit… until a hand reached out.

Viren jumped backwards when the starry four fingered hand appeared on the mirror where his face hovered over. Now he was certain it was an elf and now he was certain that he was seen. The room in the mirror slowly came into light, as the elf motioned it to do. There was a sly smile on his face, as he quickly glanced to the side into his room… at Viren’s staff.

“Who are you?” Viren asked firmly. The elf simply smiled and turned around, as he leisurely walked to his desk. “What is it? Where are you going?” Viren demanded impatiently. The elf didn’t react. It would make a lot of sense if the mirror didn’t transmit any noise.

The elf moved the desk with a flick of his wrist towards the mirror. There was a barely translucent chest on it, that the elf indulged to open with his hands. He showed him every single object that was within it: a geode, a piece of cloth, a piece of string, an elegant goblet, a mortar, a pestle and… a knife. The objects looked almost ritualistic and Viren’s curiosity began to eat away at him.

“You want me to find these items? I can do that.”

Viren returned with the requested items and when he entered his chamber, the elf wasted no time in showing the entire process. He rapidly sown a rune into a piece of cloth. Viren did the same and huffed quizzically. He had never seen a rune like that in his life before. The elf encouraged Viren to hold up the cloth to him. He was satisfied with it, as the elf drew the said rune in the air and pushed it into the mirror. The runes on both of their cloths glowed.

Viren patiently followed the elf’s instructions, breaking the geode in two and throwing the blue grinded crystals within in it into the goblet. The water sizzled and produced blue smoke.

“You expect me to drink this?” Viren said repulsively.

The elf raised his goblet and demonstratively drank it to the bottom. Viren reluctantly did the same. Despite the sizzling noises, it still tasted like cold water. The elf smiled, seemingly pleased with the quick progress they were making. The elf grabbed the knife and hovered it patiently over his hand. Viren’s eyes widened, the elf was expecting him to make a cut in his palm?

“Why should I trust you? I don’t even know you…” Viren thought out loud. The elf showed him his hand, the answer to his question would only come up if he followed his lead. “I need time to think about this.” Viren sighed and left the chamber.

Before coming to any conclusions, Viren headed towards the Crow Lord’s tower, where once again the Crow Master was in his place. He immediately fell quiet and gingerly sat in his desk, when Viren made his presence known. “Did a message come for me?” He asked, his voice riddled in impatience and apprehension for the sheepish boy.

“Yes, six messages.” The Crow Master confirmed.

“I’ve had six messages and I was not informed?” Viren’s voice went dangerously cold.

“Well, we’ve been searching the entire castle for you.” The Crow Master said, raising his hands defensively in front of his chest. “You’ve not been seen by anyone in days. You’re not hiding in some sort of underground secret chamber?” The Crow Master chuckled nervously, but fell obediently silent when Viren fixed him with a stern gaze. “So this one came first.” The Crow Master handed Viren the letter that had a seal with a loud letter G.

Viren sighed, already exasperated with it before he even opened it… but he had to read it. He quickly skimmed through and tossed it to the side.

“You do know which family that seal belongs to, right?” The Crow Master dared to speak up. “The great family with great names such as Dmitrius and Francis…”

“Yes, of course I know,” Viren said through gritted teeth. “I know Lady Lily is trying to rebuild their family’s image through these official meetings with the council and nobles, but I don’t have the time for that right now. Next one!” The Crow Master handed another letter.

It was the report from The Breach. It stated that although there was no increase in the number of elven soldiers, General Amaya was attacked by four elves on her way to the secret outpost behind the lavafall. Three have perished, while the other one survived since General Amaya was forced to disengage due to the loss of her sword. That brought great concern to Viren, their secret outpost was not exposed yet but it was unpleasant how close the elves got to it. They needed to ensure it stayed secret from them, which begged the question: what were those elves doing there in the first place? Still, they had the gall to attack General Amaya in such a dishonourable and cowardly way.

“If only the other kingdoms knew about this,” Viren’s thoughts escaped his mind.

“Actually,” the Crow Master spoke up. “The last four letters are from the Human Kingdoms.”

The Crow Master tentatively handed him the said letters. Viren snatched them and rushed them open. His eyes scanned the pages rapidly, the longer he scanned the wider and more triumphant his eyes went.

“They have all agreed to a summit of the Pentarchy!” He gasped. “I will rally the Kings and Queens behind me, behind Katolis and eliminate the Xadian threat once and for all!”

History was being made!

* * *

Rayla woke up from her slumber, despite Ezran’s soft hair being an extremely comfortable pillow material. Still yawning and wishing she could go back to sleep, she blinked the surroundings into her eyes. Phoe-Phoe was still soaring high, but the clouds seemed a little closer than they were last night. She saw Francis’s back ahead of her, sitting stiff and tense as the way she remembered him to be before she dozed off.

“Kept a patrol check all night?” She joked to him with a groggy voice. “Like anything is going to happen when we’re so far up in the sky.”

“You never know,” Francis deadpanned, yet his voice sounded strangely strained… almost a little hoarse. Maybe he woke up only recently? “Knowing us especially – nothing ever goes normally for us. The dice always seem to give us the challenging rolls. Also, good morning.” He never seemed to miss an opportunity to be polite and tactful.

“Good morning to you too.” She replied, as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes.

“I’m glad that you haven’t poked out Callum’s eyes with your horns when you were sleeping.” Francis said dryly… which reminded her.

Rayla turned around, as she remembered the reason for her awakening. It was a weird slightly irritating humming noise. It was coming from Callum, who sat facing behind them with his legs crossed.

“He has been doing that for a while now.” Francis said, sensing where Rayla was looking.

“Huh? What?” Callum squeaked.

“And that’s the first time he broke out of it.” Francis remarked. “He’s been going non-stop for the past two hours thirty-nine minutes and fifty-four seconds!”

“How can you tell?” Callum beat Rayla to the question.

“I can’t, I just guessed.” Francis admitted. “Though I can definitely tell that it has been at least two, maybe two and a half hours from the position of the sun. Considering the amount of time I spent out in the wilderness and on my own, I would argue it’s a fairly decent estimate.”

“What are you doing anyway?” Rayla asked Callum.

“Honestly, that was also my question for the past two hours forty minutes and twelve seconds.” Francis humoured, still speaking with a slight strain in his voice.

“I’m meditating upon the meaning of sky.” Callum answered.

“That’s the most boring answer you could have ever come up with.” Rayla sighed with disappointment.

“I think your determination is admirable.” Francis twisted around to fix Rayla with a stern look.

“Lujanne said that in order to do magic one must possess the meaning of it. I’m trying to connect to the Arcanum of Sky, so I can do magic again.” Callum elaborated.

“Didn’t she also say that you had to be born with the Arcano-what’s-it to do magic?” Rayla asked.

“Arcanum.” Francis was on point to correct, as always.

“No,” Callum replied to Rayla sharply, but then went on brightly. “She said that you had to connect to a Primal and that every creature is born with a connection, but I can’t see why I can’t establish my own connection.”

“By sitting weird and humming?” Rayla inquired.

“Yeah, seems reasonable.” Callum replied with the same enthusiasm.

“That’s the spirit.” Francis said merrily… yet still a little tense.

Rayla groaned at both of them. Callum’s annoying humming was getting on her nerves and she didn’t like the fact how Francis seemed to encourage Callum’s seemingly illogical behaviour. He was far stricter with her and while she was used to it, she didn’t understand why Francis was lenient around the princes. She would stew on her thoughts, but something seemed off to her. The clouds seemed closer than ever before… and were they approaching even faster now?

“Is it just me or are we losing altitude?” Rayla asked, her voice laced with concern.

“I didn’t want to interrupt your pleasant conversation.” Francis said calmly. “But I’ve come to the same conclusion a few hours ago since the sun began to rise… only now we seem to be falling.”

“What? No way,” Callum responded way too calmly and unnecessarily sagely for this situation. “I’m extremely attuned to the slightest changes to the…” he looked down and almost immediately wished he hadn’t. They really were falling… and fast. Callum lost his cool and all the sagely pretence. “… airflooooooow!”

The group began to scream, waking up Ezran, Zym and Bait… well everyone in the group screamed apart from Francis. “You’re not going fall less quickly by screaming,” he said unhappily. “I’m trying to come up with some ideas here…”

“Well, could you come up quicker?” Rayla shouted. “We don’t have eternity here…”

The trees, like spikes stuck high above the woodlands, looking for their incoming victims.

“Everyone brace yourselves for an emergency landing! Hold tightly onto each other!” Francis shouted and all of them did. “Phoe-Phoe, please avoid the trees, pick a somewhat clean landing spot!” Phoe-Phoe steered towards a clearing by the cliff’s edge. “Oh no, I hate this… all of this. I guess we have no choice.” Francis mumbled to himself.

The ground was being approached quicker than Rayla anticipated. It was a rough landing, as poor Phoe-Phoe thrashed helplessly around and slid right towards the edge. Zym flew off over it. Ezran went after him. It happened too quick. She and Francis lunged after the both of them at the same time. Ezran caught the dragon and threw him back up towards them and Ezran looked content with falling to his death… but Rayla managed to grab one of Ezran’s legs, while Francis caught the other one. Rayla got Zym by the tail and Callum held her over the cliff by her legs. Thankfully Phoe-Phoe didn’t go over. What about Francis? Where is Francis? No one grabbed him when he jumped after Ezran! Francis was holding onto his sword that he stuck into the side of the cliff. He was breathing heavily.

“It’s nice having both hands again.” Rayla sighed allowing lighter tone to envelop the near-death incident.

“Don’t think I didn’t see that, Ez.” Francis said firmly, but not unkindly.

“Is now really the best time to discuss this?” Callum shouted from the top and Bait croaked in agreement.

“Yes, it’s perfect, immediately after the action. I need to know what in the name of Xadia he was thinking, while it’s still fresh in his head.” Francis responded, though he was still looking at Ezran.

“He was my responsibility!” Ezran defended himself, echoing Francis’s own words.

Francis playfully shook his dangling leg. “Good job, kid,” he said with a smile, but he shook his head. “Though you’re going to give me and others a heart attack if you keep doing this, decreasing my already dangerously low life expectancy.”

The team dangled for a little while over the cliff edge, no one was daring to move. Zym was smiling from the adrenaline, clearly oblivious to the death defying stunt the team just produced. Francis, on the other hand, clearly had enough, when he cleared his throat.

“Well, are we going to keep enjoying the view like that or are we going to do it with some stable ground beneath our feet?”

* * *

“Is everyone fine?” Francis asked, as soon as his body wasn’t hanging over the dastardly cliff. “No broken bones, just bruises?” They couldn’t afford to slow down and having a medical stop would do just that.

“Phoe-Phoe is okay, just a little tired.” Ezran relayed.

“I assumed so, imagine carrying four people with heavy backpacks.” Francis said. “I assume since the moon disappeared it got even harder?”

“Yeah, but she also gets her moon powers from the Nexus.” Ezran added, then turned to Phoe-Phoe. “You did such a good job getting us this far, thank you!”

“Thank you, Phoe-Phoe.” Francis followed Ezran’s example and scratched the bird endearingly, then whispered into its ear. “And for keeping our little secret safe.”

Phoe-Phoe cooed at a smiling Francis and to the rest of the team. She turned around and took off back towards the Nexus.

“Wow,” Callum uttered. “I’m so impressed you could understand all of that.”

Ezran smiled and looked to have straighten his back. “What do we do now?” He asked.

“Well, we’re still going to the East towards Eastern Xadia, that hasn’t changed.” Francis said matter-of-factly.

“We need to go that way,” Rayla pointed towards the sea that was in their way. “Across miles and miles of fluid I both need to survive and hate more than anything in the world.” She noticeably tensed when mentioning the last bit.

Francis looked across the sea before them. He saw the familiar shape of a small port town and immediately frowned. He knew exactly where they were and he didn’t like it one bit. The sea or more accurately the bay, was called The Weeping Bay. Legends spoke of the many young inexperienced sailors perishing in its waters. Considering what happened at the now notorious and unnamed mountains a few days previous and knowing the team’s luck, he didn’t feel reassured at all. He always received the toughest rolls of the dice. However he had travelled this bay before.

“You know what? We can just walk around it somehow, with our legs.” Callum tried to ease Rayla. It was nice to see him care about his friend but unfortunately Rayla would have to suffer.  
“No,” Francis said firmly. “I don’t want to be harsh on Rayla, but I’m vetoing that idea right away.”

“It’s sweet of you Callum, really, but going around is going to take too long.” Rayla said and Francis wasn’t certain if he spotted pinks in her cheeks. “We have to take that former egg, now adorable baby dragon home to Xadia as fast as possible. We’re going straight across!”

Francis nodded. It wasn’t just a matter of getting to Eastern Xadia as fast as possible, but also getting away from their pursuers, the Trouble Siblings… even if the bay that they were going to have to cross was called with such an unfortunately unwelcoming name.

“So, we’re going by boat.” Callum concluded.

“Your powers of perception are frightening.” Francis said sarcastically. “Of course, we could swim across, but then it would be quicker to go around instead.”

“Don’t we have to find a sea captain?” Ezran asked.

“You’re in luck, we don’t.” Francis’s face shone confidently. “I have someone in mind.” He knew of one man he could trust, who knew his way around a ship and this bay so well, he could do it with his eyes closed… well that was his very unique and unconventional way, albeit forced.

“All right, spit it out. The shine in your eyes is telling me you have a plan already.” Rayla said impatiently.

“Well, I have a former pirate, turn sea captain, who I have helped out several years ago.” Francis explained. “He is a little eccentric but reliable.”

“And he doesn’t hate elves?” Callum checked.

“Oh, in truth I don’t know about elves specifically, but that won’t come up.” Francis quickly brushed over.

“I see it’s my cue for using my disguise again!” Rayla excitedly went through Ezran’s backpack for his cloak, while Francis put his own black cloak on.

“Oh no, not this again.” Callum groaned, defeatedly sinking to his knees.

“Now remember Rayla, less nasally.” Francis said half mockingly. “Easy on the theatrics.”

“Oh, Zym, you’re going to love Human Rayla!” Ezran said excitedly.

Rayla took centre stage. “Hello again, fellow humans, human fellows!” She began brightly and passionately. “Let’s go judge and criticise things other humans do and then do the exact thing ourselves!”

“Hypocrisy, in other words.” Francis pointed out the obvious.

“Do another!” Ezran exclaimed. Callum audibly groaned and planted his face into his palms. Francis wasn’t sure exactly why, but this wasn’t _too_ bad. It was definitely an improvement from her previous time.

“Sure thing, old buddy, old pal.” Rayla obliged, clearly growing wings at the request. She remembered one of the soldier’s conversation she overheard a long time ago. “I’m excited to rapidly eat a plate of unwholesome food in an excessive portion size.”

“That’s so true,” Ezran spoke through his laughter. “I would eat a jelly tart the size of a dog!”

“Wouldn’t it be great to encounter other humans and talk about which roads and pathways will take us somewhere slightly faster than other roads and pathways?” Rayla asked, unintentionally giving Francis an opportunity to test her. Oh, he was about to have fun with this.

“I beg your pardon,” Francis put up an even more posh and regal accent than he already possessed, did a little bow and a mock-curtsy, outstretching his hand towards Rayla. “Your lovely enamouring lunar goodness, would your moonlit radiance specify the locus of the fastest path to your heart?”

“East.” Rayla said without missing a beat, replying coolly and casually. It was well composed of her, as she played along. “My heart lies far in the East in the magical mysterious lands. It’s where my home is.”

“Hey, I hate to break up this little show.” Callum said from below them, who unlike Ezran and Zym, was not finding any entertainment in this. He looked grumpier than Bait did actually, which was somehow possible. “But getting to the East slighter faster is important, like right now.”

“Indeed it is, but at least I know Rayla won’t lose her cool if someone is going to be nosy.” Francis smiled cheekily at her. “High-five!” She indulged him, but just when she was about to make contact with his hand, Francis’s hand grabbed her wrist and pulled it and her closer to him. He stood straight with his free hand behind his back, but lowered his head and stared into her eyes.

“Four fingers, huh?” Francis spoke a little light-heartedly. “You’re not really a human, are you?” Rayla’s eyes quickly scanned behind Francis’s head, a motion that Francis found to be very much like his just now.

“A green cape with the letter G underneath your cloak, huh?” She mirrored, with a competitive smile. “You’re not just a simple human trying to test me and make me uncomfortable, are you?”

“Simple I’m not,” Francis articulated, letting her go. “Though I would be a rather smooth Moonshadow elf. I even made a human jealous.” Francis let out a hearty laugh at a flushed Callum.

“‘Lunar goodness’? ‘Moonlit radiance’? There is no way you read that from a book! Spit it, who taught you that?” Rayla giggled trying to hide the blush in her face from Callum.

“Actually, Ethari told me some of Runnan’s attempts.” Francis said with a nostalgic smile to his face. Rayla’s face faltered a little, but she was still able to produce a weak smile.

“Ah, I see.” She said with a slight tension in her voice. Francis frowned, he struck a cord and almost immediately began to think of ways to correct his mistake.

“Let’s go already.” Callum urged the team on, still blushing a little.

* * *

Exactly what Rayla found so offending in Francis’s words had to be left on the back burner for now. He didn’t sleep at all the previous night, which made him feel slower and clumsier than usual. Multi-tasking was not a great option, he should have just focused on getting to their sea captain… and yet… her faltered face didn’t give him rest.

Francis wondered if he was moving too quickly, overwhelming Rayla with just how much he knew about her kind and Eastern Xadia. He was always told that he was too much sometimes: too loud, too intense, too quick and energetic… and yet he was also told that he wasn’t enough: not good enough, not perfect enough, not quick enough, not self-demanding enough, not disciplined enough…

He remembered how this clashed feedback completely overwhelmed him and annoyed him in his quest to constantly improve. In fact it drove him nuts sometimes. Runnan certainly was in this mentoring position for Rayla before him and Francis certainly didn’t want to replace him, not completely. Was the ghosts of her past haunting her when he brought up either of her caretakers?

“Hey, Francis,” Rayla nudged him in the ribs. “What are you thinking about right now?”

“Huh?”

“You’ve got your thinking face on, your eyes become less focused.” Rayla pointed out. “What are you thinking about right now?”

“How maybe you shouldn’t say my name out loud?” Francis responded a little bluntly. “Do you want to have a scene?”

“Sorry,” Rayla’s shoulders and ears sagged. “You just looked disconnected, that’s all.”

“I was pondering.” Francis replied calmly.

“About?” Rayla asked.

Francis regarded her with a glance. “You never have been this curious before. Is Callum rubbing off on you?” He quipped. Just as expected, he spotted her blushing from under her hood.

“No, it’s not that. It’s,” she cleared her throat to say something… but then her face went distant. “You know what, never mind.”

That left Francis very sour again. Something was off, clearly. What exactly was off-putting to her in what he said and did? He had a few theories and maybe he could probe into it with a specific question, but they were coming to the pier. In fact they were on it already.

“Where is this sea captain?” Ezran whined, trying to shove Zym’s curious snout and lolling tongue back into his backpack… why was that little baby dragon so adorable? Francis halted his friends, he looked at a figure of a man with a bird on his shoulder, standing at the end of the pier. The man was looking beyond the horizon. He recognised the red parrot almost immediately and with the red and blue feathers sticking out of the man’s cap, he was certain that this was his captain.

“Enjoying the view?” Francis started off.

“A familiar voice, whether it has been years or just two and a half weeks I still won’t be able to forget _that_ voice.” The captain replied. “There is only one traveller who would talk about me vision in such a hearty manner.” The captain turned around to face them, revealing the two eye patches on both of his eyes. His brown, shaggy and braided beard ruffled faintly in the breeze.

“Ahoy, Captain Villads,” Francis chimed, drawing two fingers to his temple and flicking him to the Captain – a sailor’s greeting. “I’m not alone this time.”

“You finally found some mates along your journey?” Villads asked.

“Yes, although they were on the journey of their own. I’m lucky they took me.” Francis said modestly. “Would you like to introduce yourselves?”

“The name’s Captain Villads, the ‘d’ is silent.” Villads pointed out rather formerly.

“There’s a ‘d’?” Rayla asked out loud.

“Arr!”

“Wait, there’s a silent ‘r’?” Rayla got confused.

“Narr!”

“Okay, so it’s just the silent ‘d’ then?” Rayla checked.

“Aye!”

“Ah, so there’s a...” Rayla began, but got interrupted by Callum, who impatiently cleared his throat. Francis found this interaction fairly amusing and frowned that his entertainment had to be cut short.

“This is our regular human friend, Rayla,” Callum said.

“Spelled like it sounds,” Rayla clarified.

“And her two cute and unusual dogs, Zym and Bait.” Callum continued. Unlike Zym, Bait wasn’t particularly happy with being compared to a dog, according to his grumpy croak. “My name’s Callum and this is my little brother Ezran.”

“Ahoy Rayla! Ahoy Callum and Ezran! Ahoy doggos! And this is me first mate Berto.”

“I’m a parrot.” The bird conveniently said.

“Me ship is this way.” Villads approaches an extraordinary looking ship with two decks and big sails. Francis knew that at the core of the beauty of this ship was that it was large enough to be eye-catching to passengers and simple enough that it could be operated by a former pirate and a parrot. Not to mention that the failed pirate, Villads was blind, which shaped him to be an interesting person. Villads triumphantly exclaimed. “Welcome to me water home, The Ruthless!” He immediately turned more sombre and even sniffled a couple of times. “Named after me dear wife Ruth, who sadly doesn’t enjoy sailing.”

“Captain Villads, we need to go across the Bay.” Francis explained.

“You already recovered from your injuries?” Villads asked, surprised.

All pairs of eyes, Zym’s and Bait’s including, darted on Francis, but he kept his cool. “More or less, although calling them ‘injuries’ is... an exaggeration, to put it very lightly. They were only a few scratches.”

“Whatever you say,” Villads scoffed. “It’s just Berto said that you looked like your entire chest, back and sides were ripped apart.”

“As I said, exaggeration,” Francis said more assertively, warning off any further inquiries into the matter. “Besides after a few aloe pastes on them, they have dulled.” Francis was eager to move on. “So can you take us across the Bay?”

“Aye, the wind is on our side so we should be able to go across quickly, although…” Villads took a deep breath through his nose and then frowned. “There is a storm coming...” Well that was... concerning. This was turning out to be a very poor combination: the unfortunate name of the bay, his and his team’s luck, an incoming storm...

“A storm?” Callum repeated. “That could be interesting....” At least someone wasn’t wholly concerned by this revelation and it wasn’t totally surprising that it was the impulsive and magic-searching Callum.

“So we’ll have to delay the departure for a few days.” Villads announced.

“Uh, we’re on a tight schedule,” Rayla said. “Isn’t there anything we can do?” She was right, they needed to keep up the pace… even if this was a very risky ordeal.

“Huh, I suppose if we go right now, we could race across the bay and beat the storm,” Villads mused more to himself, rather than giving a genuine proposition.

“Yes, let’s do that!” Callum jumped head first into this dangerous proposition. Much to Francis’s chagrin there were no other viable options, but it wasn’t unlike him to brave through the toughest scenarios. Francis straightened his back, puffed his shoulders and didn’t voice any of his thoughts and concerns.

“No problem!” Villads exclaimed. “Unless the storm catches us mid-bay and kills us all.” Although, Villads chuckled light-heartedly, Francis could feel the tension triple in the bodies of his friends beside him. It was time to lighten it.

“Yay, sounds awesome and exciting. Let me just check my schedule.” Francis announced theatrically, flipping through an imaginary book. “Yeah, dying wasn’t in the plans today so we’ll be fine. Remember Villads – dying is not an option.” He said casually, then added more to his friends. “Besides it’s Sunday today, you can’t die on a Sunday.”

“What? Why?” Callum turned his head sharply, caught off-guard by his comments.

“Um, well it is a holy day for Sunfire elves and you can’t die on holy days… you know _Sun_ day?” Francis came up with a very viable excuse and although he wasn’t lying, he still felt a little guilty for not telling the full truth. “Anyways, I like Sundays, okay?” He forced out of himself. He _loved_ Sundays, not in the least that it was usually a break day for him back in the times before his fateful decision, but also because he was able to spend his entire day with his grandmother.

“Right, then, I guess we won’t die today.” Rayla said dryly, her tension hadn’t gone away at all. After all, she would have to suffer through her fear and hatred of water for a couple of days. Francis pitied her, but also felt himself admire her selfless decision. Their eyes met and for once it was her who was able to read his mind. She gave him a reassuring nod that she would be as fine as she could be under those circumstances. Without another word, the team made its way onto the boat.

* * *

Ever since they set sail, things went as one would expect: Rayla was sea sick, Ezran played with Zym… yet Francis who was usually talkative during this time of day retired below deck. Sure they all enjoyed looking at the passing trilling dolphins for a bit, but all of them retired to themselves really quickly.

This left Callum with Captain Villads, who was a peculiar character. His story of losing one eye to a flock of ‘mutinous’ seagulls and the other one to an unseen attacker was very unusual and very unfortunate. Despite his fairly big losses, he seemed to tell about them in such a content way that it seemed like it wasn’t a big deal… maybe even never.

Callum on the other hand couldn’t relate, he felt restless over his huge losses… yet his mind fixated only on one, pointedly ignoring the other. Callum didn’t feel any closer to Sky Magic than before, despite meditating for two and a half hours, as Francis claimed. Sky Magic was strongest during the storm, maybe it would be the push he needed.

It was also interesting to see that a blind pirate captain was still able to navigate the ship through the bay. He somehow found his own way to cope, which ate away at Callum’s curiosity. In fact a lot of things ate away at his curiosity, like how they were sailing against the wind.

“The sail is more like a wing, flying through the wind, pulling the boat against the water currents below us.” Villads elucidated. “It’s like shooting a melon seed – you squeeze from both sides to make it go forward.”

“I think I get it.” Callum said a little unsure of himself, scratching his forehead where the said melon seed hit him.

“After you’re in the elements long enough, you get a feel for where the wind is and how it’s about to change. It’s like a connection, deep in me bones.”

Callum’s mind suddenly sparked. What he was doing, establishing a connection, was possible? “Wait, you feel a connection to the wind? How?” He asked.

“What?” Villads spoke with an insulted tone in his voice. “Just because I am blind and have narcolepsy, you thought I wouldn’t have sailing sense?”

“No! No, no, no, that’s not what I meant… wait, narcolepsy?” And just like that Captain Villads was out like a candle, faintly snoring. He was being serious when he said he had narcolepsy.

Unfortunately they wouldn’t get to continue their conversation, the storm was quickly upon them as it began to pour with heavy rain. Callum saw Zym trill on the lower deck, wiggling his body in excitement. Maybe it was Callum’s chance to learn too?

The rocking boat didn’t make life easier for the seasick Rayla and she looked like she was doing different Bait impressions – turning different colours and what not. While her and Ezran hid by the entrance to the lower deck, Callum hang on as tightly as he could to the railing on the side of the boat. He wasn’t sure if he was getting soaked from the pelting raindrops or the crashing of the waves on the side of the boat… in all honesty what difference did it make? He was getting soaked and cold either way.

“The storm is too strong,” Captain Villads shouted from behind the wheel. “Best we moor on the lee side of the island and wait until it calms.” He pointed way off to the side and after Berto adjusted his arm, he was pointing to an island in the distance obscured by the rainfall.

Captain Villads began giving out commands to Berto and together they navigated the treacherous waters. Considering the many rocks that were standing in their way, they were facing a narrow path that would require exquisite perfection. Callum couldn’t help but exclaim fear, after every single sharp turn of the boat. He wasn’t sure how the rest were faring below deck, but he was certain that it wasn’t pleasant.

Callum saw Bait slide away from the entrance and Francis, who decided to make an appearance after spending nearly all of his time below deck, managed to grab it by its tail. One could assume that down there the rest of the team was flailing around from one wall to another, since Bait managed to escape Ezran’s grasp… however Francis was the exception.

He was somehow able to keep a straight towering spine, as he rather calmly approached the upper deck, his steps measured, his hands behind his back. His face however looked soured and grumpy, a little like Bait’s when he got rudely awoken.

Francis stopped by Captain Villads and shouted through the storm. “Didn’t I tell you that dying wasn’t part of our deal?”

“Yes and don’t worry, we won’t!” Captain Villads replied firmly.

“Dying is not an option! If we do, I’ll haunt you in the afterlife!” Francis said equally firmly.

“We’re going to die?” Callum swallowed, his heart racing. He felt fear coarse through his veins, as his hands gripped harder to the railing. The adrenaline made the cold of the whipping winds and the sensation from the gripping go painfully numb.

“No, Callum, of course not, dying is not an option!” Francis said awfully cheerily, as Callum cowered tightly to the side of the ship after another sharp turn. Callum felt like he was being told that on purpose, to make him calm down – his tone was a little too out of place. Francis’s blank face above Callum perhaps confirmed his thoughts. “We are safe and are in capable hands of Captain Villads. Nothing is going to go wrong with him at the helm. In fact, you should relax and enjoy yourself!” Francis demonstratively pranced towards the bow, despite the way the ship shook, and stood right at the front of it spreading his hands out wide. “See, this is so much fun! Everything is going to be alright!”

Callum felt his jaw slacken. Francis did say he was crazy… but _not_ mad? That was up for debate now. It was very unusual to see him so loose and he wondered what kind of faces were Ezran and Rayla producing right now. Callum’s stupor from Francis’s stunt and impeccable balance was in fact so deep, that he forgot that he was in the middle of a storm. He was however promptly reminded, when the ship jolted from colliding with something on its port. It was the island’s pier and Berto was immediately tying the ship to one of the poles. They made it already… and he hadn’t even noticed it?

“Nailed it! Squawk!” Berto said when it was done, leaving Ezran rightfully puzzled.

Francis, acting like the whole stunt at the ship’s bow never happened, walked decidedly back to where he was holed up for most of the journey.

“How did you do that?” Callum stopped him, almost grabbing him by the cape.

“Did what?” Francis’s voice was genuinely inquiring.

“You know, not fall over when the entire ship was thrown from side to side by an angry storm?”

“Oh, that?” A small smirk surfaced Francis’s lips. “That is thanks to Tidebound and Skywing elves balance training. They are prone to face unkind elements and so I was taught how to be most effective during them. They really put me through the ropes, things get real fun when they start to mess with gravity and they suspend you in the air.” Francis fondly snorted at a memory he must have had about that.

How was that even possible Callum wasn’t sure. His inability to fathom something like that rendered him incapable of making any noise leave his body. After a pause, Francis turned and went below deck.

* * *

The signal was at least half a minute to minute off. It simply wasn’t good enough! General Amaya lead the search party to the secret outpost in The Breach. Lieutenant Fen insisted that there was no way that the Sunfire elves would know anything about it, but General Amaya had no intentions of risking anything. That outpost was a foothold and the main reason why they were able to sometimes send scout missions into Xadia unnoticed. It held paramount strategic value and she needed to cast away any sliver of doubt from her head.

The outpost itself was hidden away through a passageway along The Breach. It was a cropping underneath the lavafall that was formed by chance and that the former Grand Army of Katolis, now The Breach’s Battalion, accidentally stumbled upon many years ago. This cropping was made bigger, as stone houses and structures were built inside it to form the basis of an outpost. The Katolis engineers even managed to create a lava wheel out of stone that was used to help the main forge. In fact, this outpost could easily look like a small snapshot of any Katolis town or village. Human ingenuity never seized to amaze!

General Amaya’s perception was also nothing to sneer at. She felt immediately off about the whole outpost. It was empty. There was food left abandoned on the barrels and there were no signs of weapons in the vicinity, except for the ballistae that remained unloaded by the walls of the outpost’s forge. The. outpost itself looked completely abandoned. She immediately unsheathed her weapon and readied her shield, preparing herself for the worst.

She was about to head down a separate corridor, when a soldier came stumbling out of it. He immediately stood at attention.

“Soldier, your signal was late.” Lieutenant Fen stated. “What happened? Where is everyone?”

“Yes. My apologies, sir.” The soldier replied, glancing at the floor momentarily. “The others went on patrol and I missed my cue. The next signal will happen exactly on the hour.” He held his hands together in front of him, yet his back remained stiff and straight.

Lieutenant Fen scoffed and signalled for the search party to turn around and begin their return to the main fort. Only General Amaya stood still, searching the soldier’s stance. He was sweating heavily and his thumb was slowly arching backwards. His eyes were also glancing sideways. And then General Amaya saw it – the unmistakeable glint of an arrow tip, aimed at the soldier’s back.

General Amaya ran to him and made it just in time for her shield to bear the full brunt of the arrow. All this time, she knew that there was something very wrong. Just as she backed away from the corridor’s entrance while the search party regrouped, the perpetrators stepped into the light from the lava. What was worse, was that the worst possible scenario turned out to be true. It was the Sunfire elves and they discovered the outpost. However it somehow got worse, as General Amaya looked around. More elves stood at the exit to the outpost, blocking it. There was another archer stationed on the roof, as they readied their bows at her soldiers. This was planned, they looked trapped, but she trained her soldiers well and they were equal in numbers. This wasn’t over, they could fight back and win this.

She saw that elf commander with sand coloured cape and golden headpiece, reappear from the shadows. It was going to be a rematch then? The elf brandished her sword and gave the signal to attack. General Amaya saw putrid red eyes of some elves sink into the soldiers, as they crashed into them. She lunged herself into the wave, her tip of the shield breaking the jaw of the very first elf, sending him looping in the air. The elves attacked relentlessly, their mind set on it as if it was natural.

General Amaya, saw a red hot flash coming in from her right and she instinctively put her sword up. It was cut in two, rendering it completely useless. It was her, that Sunfire elf commander. Her eyes were set on hers and she could feel the anger and hatred burn in them, exactly like hers were too. General Amaya ignored the whizzing of the bypassing arrows and dodged the first few swings, unable to counter due to their aggressiveness. It was rigorous work. No matter what she did, the elf was almost always on the attack. Her movement always set up the next offensive manoeuvre.

The third dodge proved to be anticipated, as the elf kicked her backwards, making General Amaya’s back crash against the stone cold wall of the forge. She wasn’t dazed for long, as she rolled out of the way of the elf’s follow-up swing. General Amaya saw the ballistae and immediately went for one of them. She jumped up on top of it before jumping off of it towards the wall and climbing onto the roof of the forge.

She quickly raised her shield in front of her to stop the arrow from meeting her body and ran onto the archer. The archer wasn’t prepared and was too slow to get her sword out. General Amaya pushed her over the edge and she fell down, her back cracking at the impact.

General Amaya met the angry infuriated yellow eyes of the elf commander, as she was about to attack again. General Amaya had an idea. She calmly put her shield behind her and tauntingly beckoned the Sunfire elf to attack first. The elf did so without hesitation, as General Amaya dodged the wide and wild slices and tried to disarm her. The elf was good and she didn’t fall easily, as she grappled around General Amaya and pushed her back, the tip of her sword following General Amaya just for good measure. The elf managed to land a hit on her!

General Amaya was left with a black burning mark across her chest, but the armour held on. Her eyes spelled ice cold wrath for the Sunfire elf. She mirrored General Amaya and beckoned her to attack first. General Amaya indulged her, as she ran at her and tackled her, causing them to roll down the roof. She saw the elf’s grip loosen on the sword, as she fell further down, while General Amaya got stuck further up.

General Amaya realised that they landed on the lava wheel, in between its buckets. The Sun Forge sword was stuck half way in between them and General Amaya wasted no time in climbing over the buckets towards the sword. Yet again, the elf proved to be a formidable opponent as the both of them grabbed the sword at the same time. It was clear to General Amaya that no matter what, that elf would fiercely fight for the blade until the bitter end. Therefore, she decided that if she couldn’t have it, then no one would.

After ducking the first punch, she kicked the blade to the side, making it stick into the ceiling. General Amaya looked down at the Sunfire elf, who was now just like her – without a weapon. There was a half-challenging, half-pleased smirk on General Amaya’s face… that would soon evaporate.

The elf climbed over the buckets, looking like she was going to catch fire. Her skin suddenly turned brighter as incandescent lines formed in it. Her irises looked like there were ablaze, as she resembled molten lava. She yelled angrily at General Amaya, her breaths becoming sharp and enraged. What made it worse, was that the elf looked a little restored as if she didn’t just tumble down from the roof. She wasn’t fully healed per se, but she looked like she got some of her energy back. She jumped at General Amaya, making her fall over behind the wheel.

General Amaya wasn’t stunned by the impact and immediately rolled away, to avoid the two fists that sunk into the ground instead. She was even more relentless as she crawled after General Amaya, before they both managed to get on their feet.

The elf was the epitome of anger, as she yelled with every blistering hook she scattered, but her anger made her less precise and perceiving. General Amaya hugged the walls, her singed hair feeling the heat of the fist that crashed into the wall, as she patiently waited.

Finally one of her hooks went in harder than the others. Her hand was stuck deep in the wall and it wasn’t going to budge easily. General Amaya took her chance and sprinted towards the main confrontation, with her shield in her hand. She barged, shouldered and kicked every elf she went past, giving the soldiers a much needed encouraging boost, lifting their morale. She cleared the path to the exit and lead the soldiers out of the outpost.

They came out of the ambush victorious with minimal losses and while the soldiers were cheering their success, General Amaya wasn’t so happy. It was yet another draw with the elf commander. She was unable to knock her out of this skirmish and she lived to fight and lead another day. Worst of all, the elves not only knew of the secret outpost, but they were now in possession of it. That was the only big loss of the skirmish and it put Katolis, General Amaya and The Breach’s Battalion in a rather precarious position.

* * *

Callum would usually be drawing to pass his time, but that seemed so far back in his head. Magic was so cool! Tempering with gravity was possible?! This was a first, something actually managed to overtake art in his life. In fact art wasn’t producing practically any endorphins in his brain at the moment. It was all obsessed and fixated with magic, how it was cool… and how he had none.

There beyond the pier was a raging storm – the height of the Sky’s magical potential. The beautiful flashes of lightning followed by the thunderous roars beckoned Callum’s heart into the eye of it. The storm struck again, as the black clouds meshed together, daring him to come with them. The flashes tingled in reflections of Callum’s eyes making them sparkle – Callum was part of it, enchanted, he belonged there. He felt the electricity in his body crackle at his muscles, urging them to follow his heart.

Yet, something kept holding him back… and Callum hated that and hated even more that he didn’t know what exactly that ‘something’ was. The flashes began to be muffled through the black clouds and the storm began to audaciously mock him… as the series of lightnings reminded him of the Primal Stone. He felt heat rise to his cheeks and his hair stand up, as he got annoyed by the reminder.

“Hey, are you coming or what?” Rayla’s voice broke him out of his trance.

Callum wasn’t sure what she even meant. “Yeah… I agree.” Callum responded absentmindedly. The whipping winds masked Rayla’s scoff and the fact that she approached him and sat on the railings beside him.

“I know that face,” she began saying. Callum finally broke his daze and looked at her. For the first time in a while she looked very content, as her facial features were soft, her body relaxed. For once she wasn’t reeling or gagging from her sea sickness. She looked much better. Callum tuned back in on her words. “It’s the ‘dumb idea’ face.” Callum smiled at that. There she was, the Rayla he knew, things were back to normal.

A flash went across the sky, allowing light to illuminate Rayla. Her body was openly turned and leant towards him. Her chin rested on her shoulder as her head was tilted slightly towards him. Her bright violet eyes were even more luminous from the lightning, as she looked up at him with an unusually soft gaze… one that Callum never registered before and one that he didn’t comprehend she could even possess. Her gaze fixed on him, on his previously determined face and Callum could see a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips, as her violet markings underneath her eyes and on her cheeks skewed a little from it. Her previously pure lunar-white hair was a little greyed and soaking wet, as it stuck to her horns, ears and the frame of her face.

Considering she hated water, seeing her so happy and relaxed made for an unusual picture… if not a _little_ cute and adorable. Perhaps Callum would have felt those sensations more acutely, as well as a faint urge to effortlessly tuck her glued hair behind her pointy ears and maybe untangle them from her horns. He would have felt all that if he wasn’t so engrossed with magic. In all honesty, considering how wet it was it would have been a pointless act and would have made things a little awkward… to put it very lightly.

In truth, Callum wasn’t even feeling the cold of his soaked clothes or the rain on his hair. He forgot about it since captivating himself with the distant eye of the storm. His mind was out there in it. “Every time the lightning strikes, I can feel something.” He began uncertainly.

“Yeah, me too – it feels good not to be struck by lightning.” Rayla humoured.

“No, I mean,” Callum remained patient and although he didn’t show any indication that he was well humoured, he certainly found her amusing, despite his uncertainty being proven right. “It feels like it did when I used the _fulminis_ spell. Maybe, if I’m brave enough to go into it, and face the storm, that’s how I’ll make the connection.”

“Or it’ll blow you up until you’re dead.” Rayla half-joked, half-reasoned. Callum went into pensive silence. What she said was true, it would be a risky endeavour… yet he wasn’t sure if Rayla knew what he meant, understood his dilemma.

Callum got distracted by a panting and chittering Zym, who pranced in the rain. Callum could see the pure thrill in Zym’s eyes as the lightning reflected in his pupils when he looked up.

“See? Zym gets it.” Callum persuaded. “He can feel it, too.”

Ezran reappeared on the deck, probably looking for the aforementioned Zym. His eyes fell upon the excited dragon and Ezran picked him up, reading his thoughts. “You really want to go out there, don’t you?” Ezran asked.

Rayla pensively regarded Callum, but had to quickly glance at Ezran. Her eyes widened as soon as she realised that Ezran’s question wasn’t addressed to Callum. “Oh, no, no, no, no,” she frantically waved her hands disapprovingly from side to side. “It’s one thing to stupidly risk your own stupid human life, but I am not going to let you risk the life of the future King of the Dragons.”

“He’s a Storm Dragon. He’ll be safe.” Ezran said calmly.

Rayla didn’t reply and instead acquiesced, when she took the sketchbook that Callum handed to her. He headed into the storm gently holding Zym in his shoulder. He didn’t fully know what to do yet, but if early morning meditation was any indication, he would have to find a spot.

“I swear if you die out there, I’ll kill you.” Rayla threatened not fully realising the absurdity of her threat… but it was Rayla and she was a very capable individual. Callum couldn’t see how Ezran and especially Rayla stared after him worriedly. His back soon got obscured by the rainfall and forestry and Callum was left alone with the storm.

* * *

Callum sat cross legged on the side of a smoothly rising cliff, not too far from the still visible Ruthless. He hummed very loudly so that he could hear himself, due to the howling winds.

“Okay. It’s wet.” Callum spoke out loud and he told himself it was fine because Zym was there. Ever since Ezran’s abilities turned out to be true, it was now acceptable and normal to talk to animals… when in reality Callum was talking to himself, as he continued. “The wind is blowing… it’s blowing a lot.” Callum curled in on himself, holding his hands close to his chest and gripping himself as tightly as he could. “I’m cold… I’m soaked.”

Callum’s shoulders hunched defeatedly as he turned to Zym. “Is your skin supposed to wrinkle up like this when you understand the Sky Arcanum?” Zym chittered in response and jumped over his lap, lolling his tongue to catch some wind and rain.

“I don’t think I feel any different.” Callum admitted. It was still the same untamed storm around him – magic was still outside of him and not in him, not part of him.

Callum acknowledged the peak of the cliff. “Maybe I need to get higher up.” Without any other considerations, Callum began to ascend. His body was extremely tense and rigid, the face of the cliff was rather smooth and there wasn’t a lot to hold onto, one slip and he would tumble back down.

One slip… One slip. One slip!

It would prove to be a fruitless attempt. Callum hopefully hung on to the side of the cliff as hard as he could, but his foot gave way and he felt himself slipping. His flailing attempts to hang on proved to be useless, as he fell down the slope quicker than he anticipated. His spine hit the cold and wet ground hard, sending a painful sensation across his body. Splattered on his back, Callum grunted from the ringing pain, staring up into the dark sky. Something felt freakishly familiar about this setting. He wasn’t sinking, but he was certainly wet to the core.

Callum refused to move, refused to feel, wanted to cut off any sensations. He just wanted to be left there lying uselessly as he was his entire life, feeling the faint rain drops over his hurt body. Why did anyone even bother with him? Why did anyone even fuss over him? Why couldn’t just someone forget about his existence? This way he wouldn’t have to let anyone down, wouldn’t have to let anyone waste their time on him, wouldn’t have to let others get hurt because he couldn’t do anything about it.

Callum felt pressure in four different spots on his front, forcing him to reluctantly flutter his eyes open. Zym was looking at him with concern and confusion. The baby boy, bless his soul, spread his wings to cover Callum from the raindrops.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to get this Zym,” Callum lamented. “You’re a magical creature, somehow it’s inside you… but I’m just a human – there is nothing inside me! I want this so much,” Callum’s lip quivered, but he swallowed and pressed on. “When I could do magic, I finally felt like myself and now…” Callum gave Zym a long hard look, the dragon looked sympathetically back at him. “Now I lost that. I’m just trying to find my way back.”

Callum noticed Zym’s distracted gaze. The dragon was staring intently behind him, flashes of lightning flickering in his irises. When Callum turned he saw thunderbolts striking over the same area. He sat up straighter and looked through his cupped palms that encircled the area… and there was his next step.

“It looks like the Primal Stone! That’s where we need to go!”

He arrived at what he thought looked like the Primal Stone. In reality it was a windmill and above it on its roof, lightning kept striking in the same place. Callum recognised the metal pole that was sticking out at the top – it was a lightning rod. That revelation had set hesitance coursing through his body. What he thought looked exactly like the Primal Stone was a simple windmill with a metal rod sticking out of it.

His mind throbbed, urging him to turn back, but it was overwhelmed by his heart’s will to keep going. With Zym on his shoulders, he used the conveniently placed ladder to climb up to the roof. When he looked up as he climbed, it looked like he was climbing up to the sky… but with each step towards the rod a throb in his head got louder. He was finally by the lightning rod, dripping wet. Now what? It was a lightning rod, it did attract lightning from the thunderclouds.

_Maybe if I…_

His hands slowly reached out to it, tentatively flowing through the little space that was between them… the throbbing in his head was more noticeable, as well as Zym whimpering beside him. Callum pulled his hand sharply back to his chest, as though it was burned. He slumped onto his backside. That was crazy, there was no way he should ever do that.

_I have to do this! I have to understand the Sky Primal!_

His hand went back up hesitantly at first, as it lingered fearfully around the rod. He managed to force himself despite the throbbing in his head to tightly grab it. There! He did it! He held on to the very thing that connected with the sky and storm above him! The poor Zym whimpered and cowered a few steps back.

“Come on! Come on!” Callum shouted into the sky above. He felt his heart speed up, as a heating sensation flowed throughout his body. His breath slowly picked up, as the blood rushed around in his body. He felt the electricity flowing in his body. It only needed one spark to light it all, to let it burn, to become a part of magic. Was it mockery that lightning struck anywhere but where he was? Or was it a sign?

_This can’t be right, this doesn’t feel right…_

Callum refused to let go and instead gripped the pole tighter. The throbbing in his head kept urging him to let go.

_How do you know that this won’t kill you?_

He didn’t. Was it worth it? Callum shot his hand away from the rod.

“Ah, Callum, you’re an idiot!” He yelled at himself. He held his hand back with the other. “Why would you do that? You can’t risk your life to learn magic! This is crazy!” He panted, as adrenaline eased in his body. Perhaps, he was still in shock that he was crazy enough to do that. At least, he was able to stop himself in time before he was made to pay for his foolhardiness.

He smiled at Zym who was in front of him. He unnecessarily risked his own life and the life of the Dragon Prince, so the fact that they were fine was a great relief. Surprisingly despite how young the dragon was, barely half a week, he had more sense than Callum and tried to warn him of his dangerous behaviour. Desperation could lead to dangerously senseless behaviour, Francis would certainly tell him off about it.

Callum’s sense of relief would be cut short. Lightning finally struck beside him, but it didn’t strike at the rod… it struck in front of him… and everything went white.

* * *

The sky was black with thunderclouds, but there was one thing that was scarily blacker and formed thunderclouds of his own over his head.

“You what?!” Francis’s eyes flashed incredible ire, as he clenched his fists and raised his shoulders. His forelock became menacingly sharp from the rain. “Why did any of you think that this was a good idea?”

This was unacceptable on every level! How could they have let Callum and Zym go in the middle of the storm? It was ridiculous how easily they did it judging by the way Ezran recalled to him. It would have been somewhat acceptable if they were within the visible distance, but they haven’t even restricted them to that. Callum and Zym could be anywhere on this forsaken island that they had absolutely no knowledge about.

Judging by the windmills in the distance the island was inhabited. What if the inhabitants reacted with hostility? How were Francis and the rest of them supposed to look for Callum and Zym if they hadn’t returned by the time the storm finished? What if they weren’t here by sunrise?

Francis’s displeasure was obvious to everyone, but only Ezran picked the correct approach. For an eight year old, he was smart as he looked like he understood the error of his judgement… or at least wasn’t stubborn enough to not claim that he did everything right. He stood silently, holding his own hands sheepishly, looking down at the floor of the ship.

Rayla on the other hand foolishly tried to argue. “Ezran said that…” she started but Francis cut her off immediately.

“No, we are not playing a blaming game here! You both are responsible for letting Callum go on his own with the future King of the Dragons!” Had he been shielding them too much from the dangerous realities of their journey and the wider implications it could have? Francis understood the importance of growing up and learning at your own pace, but maybe it was time to speed up that process for them? Ezran would soon have to be crowned king, after all.

“But Ezran said that Zym, a storm dragon, will be safe during the storm!” Rayla continued to argue.

“Does Callum look like a storm dragon to you?” Francis responded back, ire now sparking in his hands and shoulders at Rayla’s attempted defiance. “How is that a good reason to let Callum go into the lightning storm?”

“Francis, Callum wanted this.” Rayla kept arguing.

“So? That’s good enough for you to let him go and do something so dangerous and stupid?!” Francis held his hands behind his back, grabbing control over his emotions.

It was true that Francis was unhappy with their immaturity when dealing with Callum’s situation, but it paled in comparison to how infuriated Francis was at himself. This journey was so important that they couldn’t afford any setbacks or failures. Despite the impossibility of things ever being perfect, this mission needed to be perfect. Francis was angry at himself for not being good enough to prevent their misjudgement from happening in the first place and considered it his failure as well. Sure, it was out of his hands, he wasn’t present during the time, but that only meant he should have done better to prepare the kids for tough situations during his absence. He failed to deliver that point across, things were only controlled and relatively risk-averse when he was around… although everything on this journey was highly threatening and risky.

Francis had the voice and charisma to keep them in line and composed. He was the only one that possessed enough leadership to coordinate them to work like cogs in the machine. Had they become subconsciously over reliant on Francis? After all, what use would it be if everything fell apart if he wasn’t there?

“He wanted to learn magic.” Rayla responded.

“I’m pretty sure you and I didn’t need to learn forgery to become swordfighters. You don’t need to be a horse to know how to ride it. I’m certain that you don’t need to go into the middle of a storm and potentially get struck by lightning to become a Sky mage.” Francis argued.

“He can make his own decisions.” Rayla retorted.

“I don’t know where you’ve been for the past couple of days, but knowing what Callum has been through, he’ll be desperate to do anything to lay his hands back on magic. His filter now is non-existent and it’s our job to act as voices of reason.” Francis rubbed his temple with one of his hands, his eyes circling from side to side, thinking.

“It’s his life.” Rayla replied, refusing to fully understand his point of view.

“We are part of his life now,” Francis said with an earnest tone in his voice. “Have you forgotten what I told you about teams? Everyone is affected by each other’s actions and we all hold each other responsible. We all take responsibility for Callum’s choice, as well as letting him go. Pray that he and Azymondias don’t get hurt and come back safe and sound.”

Rayla, fell obediently silent. Worry sprung in her violet eyes and not for the first time. Despite not fully realising the severity of their mistake and miscalculation, their wellbeing was clearly at the forefront of her mind.

Francis looked at one of the lightnings that hit the windmill, producing a white flash. He frowned again at the fact that Callum was allowed to go into that, but it wasn’t of any use anymore. All Francis had to do now was to plan their course of action.

He brooded throughout the night, and he only noticed that when he saw the orange sun rising. It had stopped raining? Francis knew he wouldn’t get good sleep again… but that didn’t matter. Callum and Zym were still out there. He prayed that they wouldn’t have to pay a huge price for their mistake.

Rayla and Ezran stared into the distance waiting for any sign of a sky blue four legged creature and a human with a blue jacket and the Katolis red scarf. Francis couldn’t stand still for more than a millisecond, he paced in circles around the mast and then onto the pier. What if Callum and Zym didn’t come back? What if one of them got hurt?

Francis frantically searched for solutions for potential problems. Rayla and Ezran were wise enough to not interrupt him or tell him to calm down. It wouldn’t be Francis if he wasn’t worrying in a situation like this. His mind was in complete overload, trying to figure out potential solutions whilst staying somewhat composed and not letting his panic, desperation and anger run wild. In reality on the inside he was a raging Banther or an _Ater Bestia_. He was doing a good job of keeping his emotions in check but there was only one thing that would undo his efforts…

“There!” Ezran shouted back from the ship and Francis heard him and Rayla rush to join him on the pier. Francis saw the approaching figure of Callum, carrying Zym… and Francis bolted towards them. They were both alive and well! He did however notice how gently Callum carried Zym, like he was hurt, but that could wait… his relief couldn’t.

Francis gave him a bone crushing hug and Callum yelped in surprise. Perhaps Callum was expecting to receive a massive telling off, but not in that moment… and maybe if Callum learned his lesson, Francis wouldn’t need to. Unsurprisingly, poor Callum was sodden wet to the core. Francis was surprised that Callum wasn’t freezing… but he was fine and that was all that mattered.

“I’m so glad you’re fine.” Francis said genuinely, his head over the crown of Callum’s head “Never pull that stunt ever again, unless you want me to die earlier.” He felt Callum’s shoulders sag in guilt… perhaps he had learned. Francis pulled away as soon as Rayla and Ezran arrived. They looked just as relieved as Francis felt.

“Callum, what happened?” Ezran asked, when he noticed the sadness, guilt and disappointment etched across his brother’s face.

“We went into the heart of the storm,” Callum began. “And Zym got struck by lightning.” Francis heard audible gasps of Rayla and Ezran beside him. It was wishful thinking to think they got away with it completely. Callum was quick to add though. “But I think he’s fine.” Zym turned in his hands to face the rest of them and gave an adorable hiccup. His hiccups shot sparkles in his mouth! Ezran’s face lit up in pure joy that Zym was fine and Callum gladly handed Zym to him. Judging by the dragon’s smiling eyes, he was all right.

Callum wasn’t though. The way his face was so sunk, he clearly wasn’t telling everything… and Francis wasn’t the only one who could see that.

“Callum, what’s wrong?” Rayla asked.

“I feel stupid. You were right.” Callum replied.

“Callum…” came the sympathetic voice of Rayla. Callum however turned away and even took a few steps away from his friends.

“I could have gotten Zym killed.” Callum repented. “I put us both in danger. Worst of all, when we were right there, in the centre of the storm, I thought I wanted this badly enough, but in the end I didn’t have the guts.” Callum kept facing away from them, but not for long.

Rayla approached him and put a hand on his shoulder, encouraging him to face her. “Good.” She said simply and grabbed a tight hold of him. Callum returned the hug. Everyone was fine.

Francis couldn’t stop himself from fondly ruffling Ezran’s hair who didn’t hold back in his giddiness. A warmth bloomed in Francis’s chest at the heart melting scene before him, one that he hadn’t experienced for a while. He only heard of what wonderful things teams could do and develop on their travels across Xadia, but now he could feel it too. Love for this team, for who they were and for what they were trying to do.

Lydia always told him to hold compassion and care in the highest regard. Francis struggled to find a lot of it during his lonely travels, but he managed to find three sympathetic, caring and understanding individuals on this journey. He was glad that he could be called their friend. He yearned for this bond within his team to run deeper, perhaps wishing to experience what he didn’t get during his childhood.

He was however afraid that things wouldn’t exactly work out that way after they would finish their mission, that they would go on to do their own things and Francis didn’t want to get hurt by it. He was just so happy to identify himself with this team… and actually they still didn’t have a name for it after all this time.

“Well, Team Azymondias is reunited at last.” Francis announced, playfully tickling Zym’s nose and snout. “Let’s go and get some rest.” Team A or Team Zym it was then.

* * *

Everything was prepared for the early morning departure. Lord Viren checked for all the essentials he needed for his journey and the Summit of the Pentarchy. Once he was satisfied with the time he got to think through everything, he eventually made his decision. Viren headed down the spiral staircase, carrying a large folded curtain.

“Good day!” He heard a cheerful voice. Oh, right commander Gren was still there. “Actually I don’t really know what time of day it is from down there. Good whatever-time-of-day-it-is!”

Viren ignored him and determinedly sped up towards the chamber with the mirror. When he entered the chamber, the elf in the mirror was there patiently waiting over a book. He noticed Viren as soon as he entered, shutting the book and returning to the knife by the table. His calm and expectant face would quickly change to one of confusion, when Viren unceremoniously draped the curtain over the mirror. Tonight wouldn’t be the day when Viren dabbled with the unknown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I hope you've been enjoying this so far! Next chapter will have more original scenes so look forward to that. One thing I wanted to mention, although it is still early days, I was considering writing a follow up to this story beyond season 3 that would be more original (and thus becoming canon divergent). Again I was going to do this in my spare time, but if people really want to see it then I could post it, once I do write it up. Be sure to let me know!  
> Thank you again for reading this far.


	15. The Façade of Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Zym needed another day until they would reach the other side of the bay. Rayla was restless and asked Francis to retell her a story from his past, the reason why he went travelling four years ago. Meanwhile, Viren was at The Summit as he called to arms the monarchs of the other human kingdoms.

_Do it! She is lesser than us! It doesn’t deserve it!_

_I can’t! I refuse to make the blind and easy choice!_

Francis fluttered his dreamy eyes open to the ceiling of the Ruthless. The pleading and fearful orange eyes peered back at him. He blinked it out of his mind. He noticed how the eyes have become a more regular occurrence ever since he joined Team Zym and took a huge leap towards his life’s goal.

He had woken up later than usual again, judging by the sun it was only two to three hours away from midday. However, today his intention was to take things more slowly. It was tiring to be constantly on the balls of his feet every day. Being able to slow down every once in a blue moon to appreciate life around you was refreshing.

Francis had to sit up on his bed, the lulling rhythm of the ship was a little too inviting. Unsurprisingly, he was the last one to be up – he could hear Ezran’s laughter and Rayla’s Bait impression out on the deck of the ship. However surprisingly, Francis wasn’t alone. Callum was still sitting restlessly on his bed up against the wall. He looked a little pale and frankly darker and smaller than usual. Francis wasn’t sure if it was the shade, but in the darkness his normally blue jacket looked to have a slight tinge of purple.

“Good morning, Callum.” Francis went about in his usual tactful mantra. “You look a little down, are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Callum said weakly, not dignifying Francis with a look.

“I have trouble believing that, judging by the visuals.” Francis was honest. “I am not a fool so I would rather for you to be honest with me. I get your response, however – I’ll leave you alone.” Francis headed out towards the exit, but just before he left, he turned to Callum one last time. “I’ll be happy to listen to any woes you have, so talk to me once you’re ready. Just don’t take too long.”

Callum made no effort to hide his less than miserable look, as he drew his knees closer to his chest and wrapped his hands around them, making him even smaller under Francis’s gigantic gaze and posture. Francis had a bad feeling that this would be a long day and that his ‘break’ would turn out less restful than initially anticipated.

* * *

It was a parching few hours of travelling for Viren, who was carrying a substantial sized map on his back, but he and a couple of the guards have made it to The Summit. The Summit was a shortened name for the meeting between the leaders of The Human Kingdoms, but it also referred to the circular building at the top of the hill, where the meeting and discussions took place.

Judging by the tents that surrounded the hill, the other leaders were already present. Viren headed on his horse towards the triumphant arch that marked the entrance to the Summit. He was asked to proceed alone and to give up his weapons, leaving Viren uncomfortable without his trusty staff.

The flags of the different kingdoms waved at Viren as he climbed towards The Summit. He however didn’t pay much attention to his surroundings, as he repeatedly went through the words he wanted to say. He had to make sure that his position was heard and not only heard but also accepted for the truth it was. Xadia wouldn’t wait to attack, humanity needed to be ready.

When Viren entered The Summit, there were only three other leaders present there, one was still missing.

“You’re the fourth one to arrive.” Ahling, King of Neolandia, announced in his white robes, with black clothes underneath them – the colours of his kingdom. “May I say on the behalf of all the kingdoms that we were deeply saddened to hear of King Harrow’s passing.” King Florian of Del Bar and Queen Fareeda of Evenere bowed their heads and placed their hands in respect over their heart.

Viren was truly touched by the leader’s sincerity, the death of his very good friend was still a sensitive spot for him. However Viren remained strong and didn’t show his reaction, instead simply saying: “Thank you, it means a lot.”

“We were however reassured from the scroll that we received,” King Ahling continued. “That you would be the regent of Katolis until Ezran comes of age.”

“It is humbling to be trusted with the boy’s education and training, as well as decisions of state.” Viren responded blankly, like a prepared answer. He continued more inquisitively. “Speaking of regents, we are waiting on the regent of Duren?”

“I apologise for my lateness.” came a young girl’s voice from the entrance. Queen Aanya of Duren was only twelve years old, but held herself to the greatest standards of etiquette – back straight, hands clasped in front of her, appropriate tone. ‘Majesty’ projected from Queen Aanya’s mannerisms. That was impressively mature for a twelve year old. Around her neck laid a pendant of a beautiful closed red flower – The Duren rose.

“Queen Aanya,” King Florian greeted her with his booming voice that echoed around the high ceilings of The Summit. A little chuckle escaped his lips. “I remember you when you were barely reaching my knees – you have really grown.” The leaders bowed their heads at Queen Aanya.

Viren wasn’t particularly happy with the presence of a child in the meeting. There were hugely consequential matters and a child wasn’t in a position to contribute to such a conversation. “Queen Aanya, we are here to discuss some rather weighty matters.” He hinted.

“I am aware.” Queen Aanya responded, unmoved by the fact she was talked down to.

“Will your regent be joining us?” Viren pressed more directly.

“I speak for myself and for my people.” Queen Aanya said assertively.

“Yes, this is a very a serious situation.” Viren hid his displeasure at having to spit out his problem with her presence. In fact he was irritated that she just couldn’t get the hint. “I intend no offence, but these situations require an adult’s perspective.”

“It seems that I am a crown without an adult and you’re an adult without a crown.” Queen Aanya said calmly, then turned to head to her designated seat. “Let’s just begin.” The other leaders followed suit, leaving a stunned Viren standing on his own.

“Very well.” Viren said despite himself, as he bitterly swallowed his pride. It took quite a bit to not show it, but child rulers were becoming a sore topic for him.

* * *

Francis was wildly gesticulating, which was done so captivatingly well, you could not listen to the story and sometimes just get it. In fact, he looked like he was about to take flight, as he flapped his arms.

Rayla was a little too seasick and far away to hone in on his words and only gathered that he was talking about some encounter that involved swords and Skywing elves. Ezran looked like he latched onto every single word and since he was finding it entertaining and amusing, Rayla made the effort to listen to the ending of the story… once she stopped gagging, of course. It wasn’t too challenging for her to hear it however. Francis did have a loud voice.

“… and since I beaten her in the duel, I won that bet. Ever since then I call him Bird Boy!”

“Do Skywing elves actually have wings?” Ezran asked.

“Yeah, very few do, something like ten percent, but some mages are able to use a spell to temporarily grow wings, like Bird Boy.” Francis replied with a great smile on his face.

“That’s so cool!” Ezran said.

“So, I told you this story now it’s your turn to deliver on your promise.” Francis tickled Ezran.

“Ah, okay, fine. I will read the book.” Ezran capitulated through his loud laughter.

“Remember, knowing history is important, you would want to avoid repeating mistakes of our predecessors.” Francis said sagely, as he handed Ezran a book about the history of the Pentarchy. “I finished that book long ago and so I have no objections in giving this book to you on a permanent basis.”

“Reading is so difficult though.” Ezran whined.

“You need to try in the name of Intellectual Curiosity.” Francis urged. “Besides, I will only tell you more stories about the whole of Xadia and give you more books about it if you finish this one. I’m sure Azymondias would love to hear more about humanity.”

Rayla heard Francis leave Ez and Zym alone and recognised that his footsteps were coming up closer to her. She decided to speak first. “Good morning, you sure got up later than usual today.” Rayla tried to sound cheery and not absolutely rough from this sickening journey.

“Yeah, I didn’t sleep particularly well two nights ago and I’m still paying the price.” Francis confessed.

Rayla realised that they were travelling on Phoe-Phoe that night and she remembered how tense he was the entire time they were in the air. “Did you sleep at all that time?” She tried to recall.

“No, I haven’t slept at all whatsoever.” He confirmed. Rayla suddenly had an idea, that maybe, just like her, Francis had some embarrassing weakness hiding beneath him. “Wait… are you afraid of heights?” She conjectured, hoping to tease him.

“No, not really no…” Francis began, but Rayla was already revelling in her victory.

“Oh, I’m so glad I’m not the only one who has a weird thing they’re scared of.”

“I’m not scared of heights.” Francis reasserted, continuing earnestly. “I just get nervous around it. I mean if I fell asleep, all it would have taken for me to die was to momentarily lose balance and slide off Phoe-Phoe. If I know things aren’t too precarious and there is stable ground around me, I’m not affected by heights.” He explained, but Rayla remained adamant on her interpretation.

“Aaaw, someone is scared of heights…” she continued teasing.

“Speaking of being scared of fluids.” Francis skilfully switched the subject of the conversation. “How are you?”

Rayla blinked at him. “How did you make that jump? Air isn’t a fluid!”

“Actually, it technically is.” Rayla could suddenly imagine Francis wearing spectacles right now, with the way he spoke. The spectacles were strangely shaped like crescent moons, actually, despite him being a human. His scholarly mind was obvious, but at least he was sensible and respectable enough to not report her the details. “It’s a long and complicated explanation that would bore you to death, that has something to do with gasses being able to take form of its container.”

“Did you read it from a book, by any chance?” Rayla gathered books were where Francis got nearly all of his credentials.

“Yeah, I did.”

“Ugh, how boring. It’s just a bunch of words written on a paper, hardly useful in a fight.” Rayla deadpanned. She never took great interest in reading. “I don’t know a problem you can’t solve with a sword.”

“I disagree.” Of course he would. “Strength is finite, but words can be infinite. Besides, words can sometimes hurt more than any wound inflicted by a sword. Just remember the time Callum called you a bloodthirsty monster back at the Banther Lodge.” Rayla tensed at the unpleasant memory and for the first time not at the vexatious rocking of the ship.

“How do you know about that?” She asked incredulously.

“I have been tracking you, I’ve seen the entire incident from the side.” Francis said calmly, as he leant on the ship’s banisters beside her. There was a beat, that Rayla sensed tipped him off. “Anyways, are you doing alright, Rayla?”

“Yeah, I’m managing… barely.” She said curtly.

Francis turned towards her and spoke to her with an open palm. “Perhaps I can help? Maybe take your mind off of things? Ask some questions, because it seemed to have worked well the last time.”

“Ugh, and you know that because?” She asked exasperatedly. Nothing seemed to escape his watchful eye, he just seemed to know everything, even undiscovered mysteries of Xadia. She was also annoyed by the fact that he knew about this question game that she considered to be just between her and Callum. She still knew absolutely nothing about Francis: his family, his childhood, the entire reason he went on this journey in the first place – all the things he knew about her.

Francis sensed her vexation, judging by the genuine and careful look of his eyes. “Well, you and Callum weren’t exactly whispering on that boat, were you?” Francis stated calmly. Rayla could read the question in his eyes, _What exactly is wrong?_

“Every single time I talk to you I get the feeling that you know everything about me – my home, the way I fight, even the assassin’s way,” Rayla answered, getting a little fired up. “And I know so little about you, it bothers me. What bothers me more is that every single time I feel like I’m getting comfortable around you, you do something that seems so completely out of nowhere and unlike you that it makes me question if I really knew you at all.”

Francis’s chest deflated. He looked like guilt consumed him and for once he didn’t put up a stoic face. “I see,” he breathed out. “You feel uncomfortable by the fact that I am able to read you and understand you, while you can’t exactly do the same to me.” Francis put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry if you felt protruded by me and my actions. I would like to reassure you that you couldn’t be possibly further from the truth. I may know a lot about your culture, but I do not know everything about you, what makes you unique from other elves. I know some, but definitely not all. A lot of the things I originally said were trial and error, but it seems that I have got good at guessing, but they are just that – probable guesses based on imperfect information.” Francis turned her to face him, he had one of the most heartfelt expressions on his face, his big brown eyes burned with genuine concern, affection and respect. “However, could you perhaps elaborate which actions did you refer to when talking about not knowing me?”

Rayla was a little surprised by that question. She thought he would understand what she meant like he always did… or maybe he did understand but instead he was tactically letting her speak? Either way, she replied. “I feel like, your behaviour is inconsistent sometimes. For example, when we first met, you were extremely polite, tactful and respectful, but when you fought with Soren you almost seemed arrogant and condescending.”

“Different situations require different approaches and solutions.” Francis replied. “I know Soren and he doesn’t fight as well if you mind game him. He can easily lose focus if you get under his skin. In truth, I hate tactics involving bad mouthing and insults, but it is effective with him. In your case, first impressions were important. I do understand your point however, it can be confusing for me to behave inconsistently, but I reassure you, you’ll only experience such contrasts and extremes during a fight. Sword fighting is an art and a show and it is best to outplay your opponent mentally, before landing a hit.”

“He called you out for pretending to be nice and I don’t know what he really meant, considering I saw you being so merciless to others apart from us.” Rayla mused.

“Well, I have been clear and consistent with you every time. I only get ruthless when I have to and that usually happens when we are not save. The easiest way to cross that line – is to threaten my friends.” Francis smirked at her. “You get the real me now, during times like these, when there is peace and no need to fight or defend anything, because I care about all of you. Your wellbeing is important to me and to this mission.”

That was true, he didn’t throw words around easily and would fight ferociously and do anything necessary to ensure they survived and stayed together. Rayla now could see more clearly why Francis was so angry yesterday, when they left Callum – he didn’t want him to get hurt whilst dangerously chasing his dream. She agreed that he had been consistent in that regard. “Okay, that makes it slightly easier to understand, but I still know nothing about you.” She argued.

“I believe you know more than you think, you just have to pay attention to the details. For example, I spend a lot of time in front of a book, you can guess what I did quite a bit in my free time in my childhood. You could also easily gather what will make me turn icy cold and become ruthless and merciless.”

“I guess, but I still don’t understand why you were in Eastern Xadia and Silvergrove in the first place. You want to help us, sure, but I can’t help but think that there is another personal stake in all of this.”

“I see,” Francis sighed. She was totally right in her deliberation. “You are correct, aside from wanting to help you, I also have a personal life goal on the line. It seems to pique your interest, so what do you know already?”

“I only know that you travelled the entirety of Xadia for four years and Soren seems to dislike that you ran away, but not everyone seems to mind?”

“Do you really believe him?” Francis asked.

“No.” Rayla said confidently. “You don’t strike to me as a coward who would abandon their duty.”

“Well, here’s the thing. On the surface it could be considered running away,” Francis admitted. “But if you delve deeper, it’s more than just running away in cowardice. In fact, it has nothing to do with that at all.”

“So, why did you run away and why are you on this quest?” Rayla asked, feeling the two might be intertwined.

“That is a very long story Rayla. It is filled with loads of history and complex actions that require unbelievable amount of explaining, but we’ve got time on our hands. Its events are actually retold with a low degree of accuracy across Western Xadia, but at the core of it, and a lot of things, lie simple reasons and motivations, that lead quite complex processes of decisions and explanations or justifications.” Behind his veil of clever words Rayla could see a tinge of sorrow in his eyes. It was clearly still a sore spot for him, but he showed his mettle and braved on. “I guess the best place to start is from the beginning of that fateful day four years ago.”

* * *

_Towering wooden doors in front and a deafening silence around him in the hallway. A calming stillness within him muffled the conversation going on inside the meeting room. He did make sure however to hide his hands behind his back, as he fiddled with his fingers._

_Despite the stillness, a nerve, a thought stirred in Francis every other heartbeat. It had been months, coming close to a year, since the Pentarchy Tournament. The increased attention and a grave deliberation was lurking in his brain ever since. It was a rather insecure and unpleasant thought, choice even, one that he was still weighing up. It would be big, radical and stunning decision, one that would spark controversy and stark divisions. Which was why he requested an audience with the High Council, among the representatives of all the Human Kingdoms._

_He wanted to speak his mind, his concern, his view. After all it was his future they were meddling with… he should have a word in it, shouldn’t he? He wanted reassurances that this was the right path for him, that they were heading in the right direction, the same direction as he wanted to head in. Deep down he had a feeling that they weren’t and he didn’t like it. If this meeting confirmed his concerns, then it would most likely put things in motion for him for his departure from the role._

_He waited patiently, for the perfect moment when most of the representatives would conveniently be present in Katolis for political reasons. He kept his ears open for months to grab that opportunity and now it was just moments before he would get to speak his mind to them. A lot of people told him to go over speeches, but Francis never really did that. He memorised the structure of the argument and almost never the exact words – what was right and important would be said at the correct moments naturally, without the need to adhere to the rigid specifics. Having to have a particular figure of speech during these meetings was already exasperating and unnatural enough._

_The door went slowly ajar, as a man with a stern spine looked down at him and wordlessly waved him in. The moments that would define whether Francis would forge his path with them or on his own, were imminent. Francis took big steps towards the table, sinking in the looks and poses of the people who were present. Francis disliked the absolute monotonous stances produced by every single individual in the room. It was so alien and awkward that he didn’t understand how decisions could ever be made._

_Among The High Council during the meeting, King Harrow and Lord Viren were present, as well as some of the monarchs, King Florian and Queen Fareeda. Duren was represented by its regent, Aaron, while King Ahling was sick and was thus represented by his closest advisor Tana, a Dark Mage wearing a fully purple outfit._

_Francis was instantly off put by her mere presence in his way. She left quite an impression on him during his training time in Neolandia. She was blatantly blunt and dubious to nearly every suggestion that weren’t her own. She was cruel, unfeeling and manipulative with complete disregard for everyone else. Anyone was just a ‘thing’ for her and served, or rather ‘used in’ as Francis would describe it, a greater purpose in plans, goals and outcomes. Especially if it concerned anything that had to against the elves and Eastern Xadia. She harboured deep hatred for them. Yet, she would gladly take anything pertaining to that just to use it in her Dark Magic or other machinations. The trait that topped it all off, was that she was clever and instead of serving her gift for others, she used it for her selfish goals. Long before Francis entered the room he naturally identified her as the hardest listener to convince and now in the time it took to reach the table, when Francis finished eying up the room, he confirmed her as the most challenging of the opponents._

_“Well, speak already child.” Tana spat out rudely and condescendingly._

_“Tana,” King Harrow intervened. “He may be only fourteen, but he is wiser than most peers his age. I demand that you speak to him with respect he deserves.”_

_“Yes, Tana,” King Florian added in. “After all the boy has become a man and a legend after his heroics in the tournament. We are lucky to have him and so would the armies of Del Bar and Katolis.” King Florian gave a nervous look after an awkward pause. “… and all the Human Kingdoms.” He played it off with a smirk and gave Francis a warm look._

_Francis wasn’t falling for his kind words however. King Florian was aware of his Del Bar roots and Francis had a feeling that he was trying to lure him to join the ranks of Del Bar. Thankfully, his grandmother warned him a long time ago of this possibility and Francis’s keen eye and sharp mind sensed it._

_“He is still a child.” Tana rebutted. “Who does he even think he is by requesting an audience with us?”_

_“Tana!” Harrow said more sharply._

_“King Harrow,” Francis said politely. “I appreciate your gesture, but I believe in this situation it would be best if I speak for myself and answer her scepticism directly.” Francis felt the intensely harsh and surprised looks he received from every person in the room. It was a gutsy move for sure, but he knew that King Harrow would interpret his words as a request rather than an order or an exasperated hint. “If I may?”_

_“Of course.” Harrow allowed._

_“I have requested an audience with you because this is directly related to all of us currently present in this very room.” Francis spoke with the courtroom’s etiquette.  
“Would you like to elaborate the very reason you are speaking to us?” King Florian asked.  
“I would like a few reassurances.” Francis replied.  
“Reassurances?” Queen Fareeda repeated inquisitively.  
“Yes,” Francis said calmly. “Ever since the elevated position I found myself in, I wanted to know whether our paths are truly the same.”  
“I can’t believe that you wasted our time for this.” Lord Viren scoffed. “It is very clear that our paths are one and the same.”  
“I beg to differ, Lord Viren.” Francis said with great sense of composure. “I believe our paths aren’t similar.” In fact, Francis thought that their paths weren’t similar at all but he still kept his cards close to his chest.  
“I’m afraid, Francis, you ought to articulate with greater clarity than that.” Lady Opeli pointed out.  
“Yes, please Francis, would you care to elucidate what’s so wrong about our path?” Tana spoke sceptically and condescendingly. _

_King Harrow shot Tana a disapproving look. “Tana, Francis hasn’t said anything about there anything being wrong, just that it’s different.” He said sternly.  
“That is subjective,” Francis pointed out. “The thing I wanted to discuss is my role in your goals and how I believe it’s misaligned with mine.”  
“Your role is to be trained by the best military tutors the Pentarchy has to offer and to lead humanity against the ever present Xadian threat – plain and simple.” Lord Viren summarised.  
“That is exactly why I wanted to revise my role, thank you for confirming my suspicions.” Francis continued in his calm tone._

_“Oh, I’m almost intrigued and amused to find out what nonsense you came up with.” Tana scoffed, resting her head on her hand._

_“Tana, you will not treat or speak to my esteemed subjects in such a condescending manner!” King Harrow barked. “He may be young, but he will be treated with respect!”_

_“As I said, your ‘esteemed subject’ is still a kid and respect needs to be earned and proved constantly.” Tana argued._

_“And continuously prove it I shall,” Francis bravely intervened, probably against his better judgement. “And for starters, I would like to control my own destiny.”_

_“You will do as you’re told, because we know better.” Tana commanded._

_“Please, Tana,” Queen Fareeda interjected. “We still haven’t heard what Francis has to say.”_

_All eyes turned back to Francis. He took a deep breath. “I do not wish to senselessly kill the residents of Eastern Xadia for something that is unlikely to help us prosper.” Francis glanced around the room._

_Stunned silence answered, followed by a cackling laugh that Tana produced. “Firstly no one calls it that – there is Xadia and then there is the Pentarchy. Secondly, have you suddenly grown as weak as your grandfather that suddenly you do not wish to lead the charge and kill?” Mixed looks of disbelief, disapproval and curiosity, the latter addressed to Francis, were shot around the room. She dug under his skin, but Francis remained unmoved._

_“We are all one land, split in half at The Breach.” Francis spoke evenly and composed. “It is only natural to call it Eastern and Western Xadia and thus, the only way to continue living is not through violent means. Therefore, I believe to prosper ourselves we must learn how to coexist with our neighbours, exactly how we did after The Mage Wars.”_

_“Coexistence? One land? What makes you say something so ridiculous?” Councilman Saleer broke the silence, his questioning tone riddled in scepticism._

_“It is my belief that elves aren’t so different from us.” Francis continued speaking calmly. A deafening silence enveloped the room, no one was able to comprehend the very words he just uttered. “I would like the Council to consider this: we both possess similar militaristic behaviour, similar body features and biology. Most telling of all is perhaps our possession of Dark Magic, something that I believe originates from the elves.”_

_“Dark Magic is a human invention!” Tana and Lord Viren spat at the same time, their bodies leaning dangerously over the table and their narrow hawkish eyes skewering him like arrows._

_“Then could you explain to me_ _how humans, who never had the ability to produce magic could have come up with it? We were never born with magic, so how could we suddenly find out how to do magic that we didn’t know existed in the first place?_ _” Francis raised a valid point._

_“Through grit, strength, ingenuity and determination to be better than the prideful elves!” Tana answered._

_“And suppose that is even remotely true, it still doesn’t dispel my suggestion of common ground between humans and elves.” Francis rebutted. “Therefore I sustain my stance.”_

_“I hate to disappoint you, but perhaps you have got hit in the head one too many times during your training programme.” Viren said with venomously lowered voice. He continued despite the grim glare that he got from King Harrow. “Let me be crystal clear with you. There is nothing in common amongst us and the elves. They bring death and destruction. The Kingdoms of Katolis and Duren have experienced that recently.”_

* * *

“I called us here today because I’m afraid… terrified even.” Lord Viren spoke to The Summit unveiling his map he carried on his back. It was the map of the Pentarchy that neatly laid out on the floor like a carpet. He cast a simple spell and the map began to protrude from its canvas, revealing the hilly and mountainous terrain of The Human Kingdoms.

Viren continued his speech. “After centuries of fighting amongst ourselves, the five human kingdoms finally found a balance, an era of peace. But a new threat has arisen to challenge the delicate balance we established, as well as all of humanity… a threat from Xadia.” Viren dramatically waved his hand.

The curtains closed to snuff any sunlight that entered The Summit, swallowing the room in darkness. On the walls, shadow figures with horns and blades appeared. Higher towards the ceiling the outline of the Katolis castle grew ahead of the giant and pale moon.

“On that fateful night, when the moon was full, Moonshadow assassins sent over the border by the Dragon Queen, killed King Harrow in cold blood.” The dark figures on the wall began to step menacingly away from it, taking full form. They were totally dark, apart from their eyes… they were blood red. They roamed the room, some of them approached the leaders slashing their shadow blades across the monarchs’ throats.

Viren stood idly, unmoved by the display he orchestrated. “Now, Sunfire elves are gathering near the border.” The room turned from the dark lunar hues into lava red. Viren continued his speech more passionately. “An invasion is imminent and worse there are reports of shadows in the clouds, dragons, flying high above the towns of Katolis.” A dragon roared from the ceiling, flying down towards the monarchs and eventually through them. Despite it being a shadow, the leaders were still startled and put their hands up.

Viren showed no intent of slowing down, as fire encircled them on the walls. “When I close my eyes, I see fire raining down, death and destruction everywhere. It won’t stop in Katolis, they will spread their wrath to other kingdoms as well, unless we stop Xadia now.” He stretched his hand outward and the whole show was over, as every image disappeared into his hand. “We must stand together to protect our common humanity. I call on you to join me, join Katolis! Fight beside each other to drive back this threat!”

The room remained silent for an increment of time, as the monarchs caught their breaths after the spectacle that was put before them. King Ahling was the first to break the silence. “Lord Viren, the people of Neolandia understand the common humanity that binds us. We agree to answer your call and aid you, if the other kingdoms agree to act in unity as well.”

“Yes. In unity, you shall have our support as well.” Queen Fareeda agreed quickly.

“Yes, Del Bar will join the alliance if the kingdoms are unanimous.” King Florian said looking caught out after an awkward amount of silence. Viren was almost there, some of the monarchs were concerned about leaving their territories undefended, but that wouldn’t be of any concern if Queen Aanya said her yes.

“I’m undecided.” She said.

“Undecided?” Viren’s jaw slackened, but his face quickly turned sour. “This is why we need an adult. A leader who can make strong choices for their kingdom. Everyone else here was capable of making a decision!”

“I won’t send my armies to face unknown danger based on a two-minute speech.” Queen Aanya replied sturdily. “I may be a child, but apparently I’m the least impulsive of us all. Besides, I hardly call ‘we’ll do what everyone else does’ a decision.”

Viren felt his face warm up in pure irritation, because technically she had a point. Somehow she ended up being the most challenging opponent in the room. “Perhaps, I was rash in my words.” Viren backpedalled and bowed his head. “I apologise. You are a young queen, but evidently far wiser than your years.”

“As a child ruler, I have had to survive adults trying to usurp my throne: coups, conspiracies and assassinations. But sometimes, it’s not the hard threats that are the most dangerous ones. It’s the soft ones that are the worst – sweet words can be more dangerous than hidden daggers.”

“My nineteen year old doesn’t know half the words you just said,” King Ahling lamented. “And he still refuses to eat his vegetables.”

Viren saw an opportunity in her words and a piece of history he could retell, since this was a story that involved Queen Aanya’s parents and how they came to Katolis to ask for aid. “Queen Aanya, would you allow me to share a story with you?” Lord Viren dropped any sort of apprehension in his tone. “A story of when our kingdoms worked together to achieve something miraculous.” Queen Aanya nodded, allowing him to keep going. “It is a story of strength, sacrifice and love. It starts with the coronation of my oldest friend King Harrow, nine years ago.”

* * *

_“Please, Lord Viren,” Francis stopped him. “We are all very well aware of what happened five years ago between the two kingdoms. It is the reason why today we are visited by Aaron, regent of Duren, rather than Queens Annika and Neha. It is well known that you have a tendency to exaggerate the severity of things, so please spare us from your theatrical and magical gimmicks.” He placed his hands decisively on the table, mightily grabbing its edges._

_His statement was met with audible gasps. Francis wasn’t afraid to go harsher, in fact he was done with going in circles in their conversation. He slowly upped his blunt honesty and was ready to play ruthlessly with those who were ignorant and idle. He wouldn’t go all out, that would be senseless, some cards needed to be kept closer to his chest. There was one thing he knew for certain, but perhaps others didn’t quite realise – he was their brightest prospect in their plans and they had no replacements for him._

_“Francis, I would request that you do not talk to my closest advisor like that.” King Harrow warned._

_“I apologise, your Highness,” Francis replied tactfully, bowing his head only to King Harrow. “I am extremely irked by people who are willingly blind and complacent and I can’t sit by the side and not point out the obvious truth that is not beyond the perception of our eyes.”_

_“What are you trying to say, boy?” Lord Viren snarled._

_“You as a leader are sitting too comfortably in your position knowing that there are deceased lives on your consciousness.” Francis accused firmly._

_“You little brat!” Lord Viren exclaimed angrily. “What do you know of leadership?! The choices we had to make?”_

_“Enough to tell you that your plan, your shortcut, wasn’t good enough since it cost lives, including the lives of the three Queens!” Francis clenched his fist._

_“How does this boy dare to speak to us like that?” Aaron inquired loudly, probably addressing the whole room, who were too stunned to reply or intervene._

_“They sacrificed themselves to serve the greater purpose!” Lord Viren defended venomously._

_“Well if it came to that then you clearly haven’t thought everything through and you don’t seem to be too entirely bothered by that.” Francis stood his ground. “Sacrificing themselves should’ve been a choice for them, not a forced action because someone miscalculated!”_

_“You dare question the High Mage’s ability and judgement?” Surprisingly, it was Councilman Saleer and not King Harrow who asked that._

_“There was no other choice. They came to ask that we share our supplies, that weren’t enough, but we did anyway.” It was in fact King Harrow who helped them. Francis knew that Lord Viren was against sharing the food with Duren. His lie made Francis even more infuriated, but he did not show it, allowing Viren to continue. “Instead of a hundred thousand citizens of Duren dying, a hundred thousand people of both Katolis and Duren would starve. In order to save those people from famine we had to venture into Xadia and retrieve the heart of the titan!” Lord Viren exclaimed._

_“Not at the expense of lives!” Francis raised his voice. “In fact, you probably treated soldiers like pawns, unfazed by leaving the wounded behind!”_

_King Harrow sighed knowingly, perhaps Francis’s impulsive conjecture wasn’t completely wrong._

_“It was for the greater good of Duren and Katolis!” Lord Viren spat out._

_“Nice excuse.” Francis said curtly, clenching his jaw. “_ _Maybe you have asked the citizens of Duren and Katolis what was the greater good for them?” Francis stared down at Viren, squinting his eyes at him. “Did the greater good also include and was worth the great costs it required?” Still Lord Viren didn’t reply. “I also highly doubt it was the only way. Have you asked the rest of the kingdoms to aid you with supplies?” Francis’s question was answered by the evading glances of the monarchs around him and Francis felt exasperation wash over him. “What do the leaders even discuss during The Summit – waging wars on Eastern Xadia? What’s the point of the Summit then, of all of the kingdoms coming together, if all you do is discuss military strategy against Eastern Xadia? You are all going backwards and instead of cooperating, you’re sitting comfortably on the weak thrones!”_

_The loud overbearing silence continued to accompany his words._

* * *

“I am sorry you were never able to know your mothers.” Lord Viren said solemnly to the grieving Queen Aanya.

“Thank you for sharing this story, Lord Viren.” She replied. “I feel lucky to have heard so many beautiful stories. This is how I’ve gotten to know them.”

“They were very brave, strong and wise. Without them distracting Thunder, we wouldn’t have been able to get the heart over the border.” Lord Viren sighed. “I know it’s not my place to say, but I am sure they would have been proud of you.”

Queen Aanya held her pendant close to her chest trying to prevent some of the tears from escaping her eyes. Unable to hold them back, she let the pendant rest in her open palm and the flower blossomed open. She stared down at it, their betrothal gift, the only physical reminder she had left of them. “It may seem strange to miss someone I’ve never known, but I miss them so much.” Aanya confessed.

“Queen Aanya, knowing what you know now,” Lord Viren pressed. “Can you see why I believe that if your mothers were here today, they would choose to join us and fight by our side?” Queen Aanya looked back down at the flower before her. “I think you’re right, perhaps they would.” She said and Lord Viren let out a victorious sigh. “But I will not.”

“What?” Lord Viren looked like he was slapped across the face, his eyes stared widely at her now firm face. The monarchs were also just as surprised as Lord Viren was, as they exchanged inquisitive looks between each other. The one condition for Lord Viren’s success was failing, since the monarch weren’t unanimous then his plans have crumbling.

“We owe Katolis a great debt there is no doubt.” Queen Aanya began explaining, standing up from her place confidently. “We received so much courage, kindness and sacrifice, but I cannot repay the debt of a hundred thousand whose lives were saved by sending a million men and women to die in violence.”

“Did you not listen?” Viren barked. “Did you not…” he trailed off as he got consumed by rage. He turned to other leaders and picked King Ahling. “Help me talk some sense into her.”

“Viren,” King Ahling sat squirming in his chair. “We sympathise with the plight of Katolis, but I’m afraid we can no longer…”

“Coward!” Viren cut him off, sharply turning to face the rest. “Traitors. Every single one of you today, you betray the humanity!” Viren pointed angrily at the monarchs, as the veins in his neck threatened to escape. If his efforts were being torn down, then Viren wouldn’t hesitate to spit truth in their faces.

“Viren, I am sorry.” King Ahling found the bravery to hold Viren’s shoulder, but Viren flicked his hand off, sending him falling back into his seat.

Viren leant over him and narrowed the distance between their faces. “Save your empty apology.”

Viren began taking steps towards the exit, but before he made his intentions clear, he clenched his fists once more and addressed the floor one last time. “There is danger coming. They’ll be on your side of the border soon. You’ll all pay the price for ignoring my warnings!” And with that Viren stormed out of The Summit.

* * *

_“This is exactly why I wanted to speak with all of you!” Francis eyed the room intently. “Are you not tired of constantly fighting? Innocent brave soldiers, good men are dying on both sides! And for what? This cycle keeps going and it’s going nowhere. Elves are just like us, suffering as a result of a prolonged struggle!”_

_“But elves are not humans.” Queen Fareeda intervened, clearly trying to hint that somehow they were stronger and more enduring._

_“But they aren’t different.” Francis said. “I have no intention of becoming anything you want me to be. Life is the most important thing bestowed upon this world and I do not wish to be the one that takes it from others and keeps this war going. I want peace.”_

_“Humanity is threatened by the elves’ very existence.” Lord Viren argued. “Their eradication is for the greater good of the Pentarchy!”_

_“It is interesting to see how the humanity and the greater good only come when discussing wars and not helping each other.” Francis pointed out._

_“Elves are monsters, you heard the stories!” Aaron accused weakly._

_“We can become monsters ourselves, you know.” Francis responded. “We lose our humanity as soon as we stop acknowledging and respecting others as such and when we try to achieve things at any and all cost. It is in those moments that we become monsters, be it for the greater good or not.”_

_Francis didn’t show it, but he was becoming desperate. The people in the room with stony, unmoving faces and hung heads that averted anyone’s gaze were sending him a clear signal. He wasn’t convincing his audience nor inspiring them enough to speak out and agree with him. Francis thought that the argument and conclusions were so obvious and logical, it had to have had a better effect, right? Well, at least not all the faces were so unsupportive._

_“Francis,” King Harrow said with a heavy sigh. “What you are suggesting is very ambitious. We have a history – century of struggles between elves and humans and it won’t go away just like that.”_

_“It never will, but we shouldn’t let history and the past solely define us. Sometimes we need to acknowledge it and move forward with the knowledge and experience it gives us.” Francis replied respectfully, then turned to the rest of the council. “If we are talking about history then I do wish to remind everyone again that humanity once fought each other and peace and prosperity only came once they learned to cooperate and coexist amongst each other. The same can happen with elves and Eastern Xadia. Yes, it will be difficult and it seems improbable, but it is not impossible. We will get nowhere if we all keep fighting and good men keep dying. We need to learn to coexist amongst each other because we all share the one continent.”_

_Francis took a deep breath and prepared for another question, another challenge from the floor… but he only heard clapping. It was from one person and it was very sarcastic. It was unsurprisingly from Tana._

_“In truth I’ve had fun with this little idealistic speech of yours,” she chuckled derisively. “But you’re just a kid and your suggestions are unrealistic and absolutely delusional. Perhaps you can tell me of defining proof you have that elves aren’t so different, because everything you just said was presumption.” Francis stood silently… he had no response to that; she was absolutely right. His eyes fell tellingly to the side. Tana continued scornfully. “What’s the matter, you and your argument don’t look so even anymore?”_

_“Even the Katolis towers are uneven, yet the castle is considered one of the most impenetrable ones.” Francis said firmly, standing unfalteringly, despite the fact that there was no way to win this argument anymore. Was there even a chance in the first place?_

_“Your castle is built on weak ground.” Tana scolded. “You are nothing but a child: arrogant and ill-disciplined enough to speak to those higher than you in such manner. You will continue your training, but I demand he pays for his foolishness and as a result the intensity from now on is tripled at the very least. He needs to learn his place. I also have something that will make sure that he never comes up with anything so idiotic ever again – a deed that he would be forced to complete before finishing his training.” The council silently nodded, leaving Francis staring against their cold looks. Tana revelled in his humiliation. “Thought you could do something because you’re from the same family as Dmitrius? You are a nobody and there is nothing you can do about anything. So listen and follow those who know better.”_

_Francis puffed. There was one thing he could do. He may have been a little too brash and direct, but he hadn’t revealed all the cards he had available to him. He originally thought of simply_ _departing his role, it would be devastating and unexpected, something that the Pentarchy didn’t fully realise. Now however, he thought a step further._

_In Tana’s mocking words he saw a possibility. Francis could find out by himself how exactly the elves and humans were alike by going to Eastern Xadia. He could escape the destiny he disagreed with and didn’t want to be bestowed on by others and search for the answers himself. He would find out if his beliefs were true. Departing Katolis and the Human Kingdoms would be something that monarchs, nobles and councilmen would never expect and they only needed to realise their mistake of placing all their stock in Francis when he would already be gone. Francis would have the last laugh._

_“Am I dismissed, King Harrow?” Francis bowed his head. King Harrow nodded solemnly. Francis turned away and began calmly walking towards the door, with his back straight. He may have lost, but he wasn’t defeated._

_He was nearly at the exit, but then he stopped. Without turning around he could feel the stone cold stares sink into his back at his sudden halt. “You’re right,” Francis began. “I may be a nobody… yet.” He turned half-way to face the council over his shoulder. “That doesn’t mean that in the near future I still will be. This rigidness will come back to haunt us.”_

_“What is he still doing here? Kick this ungrateful swine out!” Tana exploded. “This son of a…”_

_“Silence!” King Harrow shouted. “Tana, you will never speak to my subjects like that ever again! Do I make myself clear?” Tana fell obediently silent. King Harrow turned to Francis. “Speak, whatever you wanted to say and for the good of everyone, leave.”_

_“I may be young, idealistic and naïve in my years.” Francis spoke his truth. “But since I’m not chained down by history and choices just yet, I see how things look like without the need to constantly search for second meanings in them. All of this, all of you would rather do nothing or play by the rules, rather than try and make a significant difference for more than just yourselves. You’re all hiding behind a façade you built to cover the flaws of your ways and systems, that you yourself are trying your best to ignore. Some of you manipulated history to serve your own needs and thrown innocents into the jaws of death in the name of greater good and personal power. Humanity is only in trouble because of itself and its own unwillingness to move forward, if anything is going to be its downfall, then it will only be ourselves. The libraries, the central hub of knowledge of humanity, are a mess. Our governance – rigid, impractical and out of touch with the severity of the situation. You began throwing younger and younger recruits into war because you are running out of anyone else who could have been a capable leader. Instead you’re hoping that one of them would turn out to be a wildcard for you. How many lives you wasted to get yourself nowhere? Is that really how you want to be seen and remembered? What are you passing on from your reigns?” Francis had no intention of becoming just another one of those recruits they considered simple pawns and follow their legacy, their version of his destiny. He wanted to stand up to that and hoped that maybe in time, someone would follow. He kept his mouth shut though, he didn’t want to completely give his intentions away._

_Francis spun towards the door and unceremoniously left._

* * *

There was the most blankest expression on Viren’s face that was darkened by a shadow of the setting sun that hid behind the Katolis towers. His hunched back made for an emptying and low sight of a broken man. He was depleted from a defeat he never even thought was a possibility. Everything he said to them was right and made total sense. Worst of all he knew that if he failed to achieve this then there would be no one to turn to.

Viren couldn’t care less what Lady Opeli was shouting angrily after him: that he used the King’s seal, that he lied to the Pentarchy that he was a regent, that he committed treason. What significance did all of those rule breaks have compared to the fate of humanity and the looming threat of Xadia?

That wasn’t what bothered him. No. The worst part of his stunt was that it amounted to nothing… nothing. Nothing! How? A man who always got results was left empty handed and Viren struggled to accept that reality. He thought he had calculated everything, most importantly of all he believed he was right. How was it possible? How stupid did the monarchs have to be to not heed his advice and follow him?

Lady Opeli’s threats, that Viren would be lucky with just being removed from the Council, were the least of his concerns. He trudged back into his tower, through the painting of the shepherd, down the corridor, further down the spiral staircase, ignoring the obnoxiously optimistic Gren and into the dark chamber with the curtain covered mirror. It still had some light poking through the spaces. He eyed the knife he left on the table. Viren sighed. Rejected at the Summit, kicked out of the Council; he had nothing left to lose. How significant was a cut on a palm anyway?

* * *

_Francis remained strong and with his mind made up, he was going to put his theory to the test. He wasn’t sure what he would do if he turned out to be wrong, but he always got told that if you planned for failure, you would fail. Instead, as per usual, he reflected how he could have done some things better._

_Now he was planning for a long journey. He could only tell his grandmother about his intention to escape. Despite understanding and helping him prepare for his rather daredevil journey, she was extremely reluctant on letting him go. It panged in his chest to see her worry so much already before he even left, but when she understood what kind of hell he had been put through during training she knew that Francis had to leave. After all, if you were the only one that had problems with the group and raised objections, then you were the problem and you had to leave, no matter if you were right and your request simply fell on deaf ears. It just meant that you had to search for the right people who would follow, support and challenge you._

_It took another month for Francis to find the perfect opportunity to escape… but unfortunately not before Tana’s aforementioned deed._

* * *

Francis looked back and did his best not to make his internal flinch external – Rayla’s attentive eyes glistened orange. In that very moment, Francis hated his brilliant mind and imagination. His ability to vividly visualise things was very useful during analysis whether pre, during or post encounters, but right now that reminder wasn’t particularly helpful.

Even if he resisted the urge back then, it still scared him what he could have become if she succeeded in pressuring and manipulating him, coercing and coaxing him into doing the deed. Instead his ‘failure’ led his life in a different, nearly opposite direction, one that he welcomed and had no intention of straying off of.

“After doing two more things I finally escaped on that same night and travelled across Duren and Katolis to try and get over the border.” Francis quickly concluded, looking away, hoping she didn’t quite catch his wide eyes.

“Wait, two more things?” Rayla asked. “Francis, what did you do?”

“I would rather not talk about it.” Francis admitted. “What’s more important is what I didn’t do. Instead of doing something I was being slowly coerced into doing, I under the covers of the night did what I wanted to do.” He dropped his voice, barely a whisper. “I hope she made it.”

“What happened to them after you left?” Rayla’s ears dropped anticipating a grim answer. She did know that the human populous mostly remained admiring Francis and were against the views of those in power, but what about the monarchs themselves? His family?

Francis shook his head. “I fell in love with an idea, a concept… only I did something about it despite not getting heard. After all, actions speak louder than words… but inaction can sometimes speak just as loudly.” He sighed heavily. “Nothing really changed on the grand scale of things. I’m glad that some people in the council heard me and I made them think – that was a small victory for me.” Francis wasn’t sure of Lady Opeli. They were always on good terms and respected each other greatly, but he knew King Harrow certainly didn’t let Francis’s words pass him by. “My words mostly fell on deaf ears though. They were either too afraid to not conform to their chains of history or too afraid to act differently, if not at all. If somebody doesn’t want to change, they never will – I was never going to succeed in persuading them from the beginning. I should have just left as soon as my suspicions were confirmed. Instead I kicked up a fuss, caused loads of noise and had to suffer the backlash of it for another month before I made my escape. Who was in need of my truth but me?” Despite relatively few successes Francis believed himself to be right and that he was heading in the right direction – he had to keep going, everything eventually would pay off.

“Villads told me earlier today that life is like a river.” Rayla reminisced. “You can’t control it. You can only control yourself and the river will bring you where you were always meant to be. Perhaps since you know who you are and what you want, you’ll find the people who will agree and see your truth.”

“Maybe, I already met them.” Francis said knowingly with a soft smirk on his lips. “Villads may look like a crazy old pirate, but he is a wise man. He has seen a lot in his life… or heard even.” Rayla held back a smile. “So, did you get the answers you were looking for in Eastern Xadia? Are we so different from you?” Rayla tried to change the subject away from Francis’s horrible and unpleasant experiences of those events.

“We couldn’t be more different from each other.” Francis answered, admitting his error. Rayla’s face and ears fell. After the story she really hoped that he wasn’t wrong about his beliefs, otherwise he would have spent his travelling somewhat in vain. However Francis looked back at her with a pleased and rather mischievous expression on his face. “But we also couldn’t be more alike.”

Rayla’s brows furrowed inquisitively, yet she still had to hold back a small snigger. “How does that even work?”

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know?” Francis jested, flicking the tip of her ear.

“You are so going to die in our next sparring session!” She hissed.

“Then I have nothing to worry about.” Francis walked over nonchalantly and rested his back on the mast of the ship, crossing his arms. He continued cheerily, as if he didn’t just have a moment. “I have to say we do share this children punishment when the parents drag them by their ears for doing something naughty, only it’s more effective and painful for the elves… or equally painful I’m not sure, I can’t tell.”

“Great,” Rayla deadpanned. “But really how did you come to such a contradicting conclusion?”

“Rayla, these are my answers to my questions.” Francis said calmly. “I can’t keep telling and explaining everything to you about life. How about you find out for yourself?” Rayla rolled her eyes, unsatisfied that Francis stopped spoon feeding her the information. “You don’t need me explaining it. Just look around you, look at what has been happening for the past week. I’m sure you can make your own conclusions from that question.”

“Okay, fine, maybe you do have a point.” Rayla conceded.

“I always do.” Francis joked, running his hand through his forelock and straightening it.

“But what about the scar you have across your palms?” Rayla asked. “Is that from training?”

“No.” Francis replied. “Come on, Rayla, I can’t tell you everything about myself, that wouldn’t be fun. You’ll lose all that thrill and excitement of finding it out for yourself!” Rayla continued to sulk, demonstratively crossing her arms. Francis shook his head. “Look, if we have to defend ourselves, you may find out.” He hinted, then quickly moved on. “Besides, isn’t it a taboo for Moonshadow elves to inquire about one’s scars, unless they are considered to be close?”

“I’ve never really had friends before and you didn’t seem to have too many of them.” Rayla pointed out. “So I guess we both could be considered close enough, since this is both uncharted territory for us.”

“Speak for yourself.” Francis shot back.

“Besides you’re not a Moonshadow elf.” Rayla retorted.

“Whatever you say,” Francis did a mock bow. “Your lunar goodness.”

“Shut up!” She laughed. “No one does that!”

“Like you would know.” Francis jabbed.

“Oh, you have experience?” Rayla shot back.

“No, but I’m observant and I’m a good actor.” Francis parried.

Rayla shook her head disapprovingly, then quickly ran to the edge of the boat. She seemed to have remembered that she was prone to seasickness.

“I should check on Callum.” Francis said, having got the opportunity to leave.

Callum hadn’t been out after all this time, gripping with his father’s death, how he was going to tell Ezran about it and the betrayal of his two best friends. The ship would soon approach land and Francis wanted to somewhat console and ready him, so that Callum could carry on.

Francis turned to head to their cabin below deck, but had to halt immediately when he noticed Zym and Ezran sleeping. It was an extremely cute sight, not because it was just sweet, but also the fact that they both repeated the same motions, almost identically… not even almost – exact second and movement! Francis’s eyebrows might as well have been higher than Mount Kalik, he was so stunned by this finding. Somehow, despite travelling Eastern Xadia for four years, this was the most surprising thing he had ever seen and he had seen some weird spectacles in his short, but rich lifetime.

“No, please don’t leave.” Francis eventually heard Rayla call him back, as she blindly reached her hand in his direction. “You’re right, talking does take my mind off of things.”

Francis thought about her request. Maybe he needed to give Callum a bit more time to himself, he could still afford to wait. So Francis returned and Rayla continued talking. “You’ve got to at least answer me this question: you’ve been to Silvergrove, but who let you in?”

“Aah, you know him. It’s Mac.” Francis said with a widening grin on his face.

“The barkeeper!? Oh he’s hilarious, only he is sometimes a bit daft.” Rayla was unknowingly copying his grin.

“Yeah he nearly told the whole village that a human was here. He had huge difficulties with keeping his mouth shut. Thankfully, Ethari laughed at him and no one took his claims seriously.”

They both laughed as Rayla quickly forgot about the sea she was surrounded by.

* * *

Callum restlessly shuffled on his bed and fiddled around. He sometimes held King Harrow’s letter with both hands, then one hand. He would lay it to the side and sometimes just stare at it and sometimes look away and pretend it was not there. Whenever he reached back to pick it up, he would always move his hand slowly and hesitantly.

He completely lost track of time and paid no attention to the dimmer looking sun and an even dimmer looking cabin. The sunrays fell way to the side, away from Callum, leaving him to fester in the shadows.

Callum was standoffish and even the entrance of a saddened Bait was unwelcomed at first, until Callum saw the glowtoad’s grey and blue body… and Callum softened immediately, letting him on the bed with him.

In hindsight, he had to constantly remind himself to not be so impulsive, but he just couldn’t stop himself sometimes. He hoped and promised himself to get better. Bait was looking sympathetically and encouragingly at Callum. He knowingly put his paw on Callum’s leg and Callum sighed.

He looked at his father’s letter one more time. There were words waiting to come to life from that scroll. When the last word would be read, then it would all be over – his father would really be gone.

_Don’t take too long, you can’t keep putting this off._

Callum sighed, he wanted to tell Ezran the news, but it didn’t feel right if he told him that before he read the letter. Maybe it could somehow help him face the daunting task? Callum grabbed the letter around the seal. One pull and the seal would break…

 _Crack_. The seal split in half and Callum slowly unveiled the letter in front of his face. He could hear his father speaking loudly, as though if he was sitting beside him, as he read the letter.

> _Dear Callum,_
> 
> _Over the years, there have been moments when I let there be a distance between us. Because I’m your stepfather, I was trying to give you the space I thought you needed to love your real father, even though he passed away. Now, I wonder if I should’ve held you closer. I wonder, if showing you how much I loved you would have been okay and would not have disrespected your relationship with him. Callum, I know I am not your birthfather, but in my eyes and in my heart you are my son. I see myself in you, we’re both just as bad at keeping our feelings hidden. It’s like looking in a mirror. I’m proud of you and I love you unconditionally._

Callum had to pause his reading to wipe a few tears that escaped his eyes. This wasn’t easy and he expected it, but this was even harder than he anticipated. Bait croaked to encourage him to keep going. Could Bait read and understand words? After that distracting thought, Callum ploughed on.

> _As I’m writing this, the sun is setting while Moonshadow assassins prepare to end my life. A few months ago, I took my revenge on Xadia. Tonight, it is their turn. I may not have long, so I’m forced to ask myself – what I can pass onto my sons in the short time I have left? In this letter, I will share with you a lie, a wish and a secret._
> 
> _When I am gone, your brother Ezran will become king and you will be his partner, his defender and his closest advisor. Soon you will both face a lie – the great lie of history. Advisors and scholars will tell you that history is a narrative of strength. They will recount stories of the rise and fall of nations and empires. They will be stories of armies, battles and decisive victories… but this isn’t true strength. It’s merely power. I now believe that true strength is found in vulnerability, in forgiveness, in love. There is a beautiful upside-down truth, which is that these moments of purest strength appear as weakness to those who don’t know better. For a long time, I didn’t know better. I ask you and your brother to reject history as a narrative of strength and instead have faith that it can be a narrative of love._
> 
> _The last time I saw your mother, she said ‘I will see you on the other side’. I don’t know what lies on the other side, but I do know that I will be watching over you and your brother always._

Callum should have flinched when he imagined his father softly whisper those words into his ear, but instead Callum felt calm, as though it was normal, and couldn’t stop himself from smiling despite the continuously escaping tears.

> _I’ve tried to be selfless as a king, but as a father, I have a selfish wish. That is for you and Ezran to be free. Reject the chains of history, do not let the past define your future, as I did. Free yourself from the past. Learn from it, understand it, then let it go. Create a brighter future from your own hearts and imagination._
> 
> _And, finally, you must be wondering, about the secret I promised to share. Well, good news, the secret is hidden in The Banther Lodge, right where you are right now._

Huh, how unfortunate…

> _Right now, go upstairs to the game room. There I have hidden an unusual cube with rune symbols on each side._

Huh, how convenient? Callum removed the cube from the bag to inspect it closer.

> _This cube is an ancient relic that has been passed down through the ages. It belonged to an elven wizard in Xadia, Archmage Aaravos, a master of all six primal sources. It is hidden in a box of keys, because it is known as ‘The Key of Aaravos’ and legends say that it unlock something of great power in Xadia. Perhaps it will be you, Callum, who discovers the key’s secrets._

Callum put away the Key and felt relief that it wasn’t a stupid children’s toy like Rayla initially suggested.

> _And one last extra-super-special bonus secret. Did you know that Bait, our most sour friend, secretly loves belly rubs?_

Callum lifted his eyes from the finished letter, he could test that theory later.

“Did you know that Ezran can actually understand animals and that I…” Callum said out loud, almost merrily, looking beside him, but he stopped himself. The next words and the fact that there was no one beside him made him falter, as he mumbled quietly. “… used to be a mage”… and now he was nothing.

* * *

Callum looked back again and then sadly ahead, but he wasn’t alone anymore… he found a caped figure standing at the entrance, the shadow it gave off rising over him. “How long have you been there?” Callum asked.

“I just arrived,” Francis explained and judging by the way his cape was still moving those words were true… not that he would lie to him. Francis tried to cheer his mood up. “It’s official Callum, you’re just as if not more crazy than me, you’ve started talking to yourself. Maybe I’m rubbing off a little too much on you.” Callum gave off a weak smile. Francis turned more serious, but still attempted to somewhat lighten Callum with good news. “We’re going to reach land soon.” When Callum’s face remained unchanged Francis approached him and sat right beside him. Callum didn’t insist on being left alone this time. It had worked previously with Bait, maybe it would work with Francis. Francis spoke more earnestly and with a concerned expression. “You look like there’s a weight on your shoulders, we are worrying about you Callum. Rayla would also be here, but she really doesn’t want to throw up on you by accident.” Callum finally indulged a small smile to tug at his lips, but not for long, as Francis inquired. “So, what’s on your mind?” Callum’s shoulders sunk closer to the bed frame, as his head ducked with them, going below Francis’s shoulders.

“It’s just… I feel empty and yet I’m weighing you all down.” Callum confessed. The magic, the betrayal, the death of his father who told him how much he truly, unconditionally loved him only after he was gone… so many things that should have hit him and make him feel overwhelmed with grief, but he couldn’t feel any of it anymore. Did the letter help or was he completely out? He felt nothing, he was nothing, the things that were the better part of his life and that he defined himself by have all dropped off in a space of days.

“Callum,” Francis sounded benign, maybe readying him for a reassurance and a few wise words, but Callum wanted to speak his mind.

“Just look at it, you and Rayla are incredible fighters and I admire that. I’m mesmerised by the way you both fight – head first into battle, displaying so much courage, strength and bravery. You also are a capable… no, great leader. You know what to say, how to say and when to say it. I, as a prince, was expected and supposed to possess those abilities… and horse riding as well. Ezran can even understand animals. The one thing I felt good about that I did well was magic, but now that’s gone; I lost it… amongst my father and my friends. I feel that I can’t do anything, help anyone, fulfil even the lowest of expectations – I feel useless… a nobody… nothing.”

“Society is extremely good at making us feel useless and unneeded.” Francis said reminiscently, clearly paraphrasing someone’s words, maybe even his grandmother’s. “I would like to reassure you Callum, you are far from useless. You gave up magic to save Zym and now the world has a chance at peace, a chance at redemption. You did a great thing, and in that moment prioritising the needs of others at the expense of your own, is nothing short of admirable.”

“But I lost a piece of myself.” Callum said quietly, almost afraid to voice his suggestion. “Was it worth it?”

“Saving the lives of others is always worth it, it’s the most precious thing anyone has.” Francis said firmly, but not unkindly.

“But now I’m just a prince again – no magic and unable to do the things I’m supposed to do.” Callum sunk even deeper.

“So what if the others keep telling you what you’re supposed to do? What do you want to do?” Francis challenged. “Not all princes are the same; everyone is different, unique. I can tell you many examples of princes who compensated their inability to fight with eloquent speech and masterful diplomacy. You still have an artistic ability, so why can’t you be an artist and a prince at the same time, bringing happiness and culture to your people? If you want to talk military, then you would make an amazing scout with your memory. Do what is right by you, what helps and benefits you.”

“I don’t know what to do.” Callum admitted. “I don’t know how to tell my brother that our father is gone. I want magic but I don’t know how to get it. I lost two of my oldest friends and I’m lost at what is the right thing to do anymore. Worst of all is that nobody needs this ‘artist prince’, nobody needs me – they need someone like you or Rayla, capable of standing up for themselves and others. I could only do that when I had magic.” There was also the slight frustration Callum got with how much Francis downplayed his ability and importance. Callum, as a prince, yearned to possess what Francis had, yet Francis never paid too much attention to it. It didn’t make sense in Callum’s head.

“Magic isn’t a shortcut, Callum.” Francis warned him. “You already have those abilities you mentioned within you. Magic never gave you the ability to be smart, quick on your feet, selfless and brave. You always had that!”

“Yet, I can’t express that without magic.” Callum raised his despair ridden voice.

“Then either find a different way or chase your dream.” Francis insisted calmly. “Judging by your conversation I overheard with Rayla and your risky and foolish actions you took, you already made up your mind – you want to be a mage. Some people who are much older than you don’t know what they want or who they are, so you are already in a very good position in life. I urge you to not give up and stay determined as you have been. You won’t get close to that if you stay cooped up in this cabin. Be patient with yourself and stay persistent.”

“But until I find a way, I’m this unwanted, unneeded and burdening Prince.” Callum squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hide his welling eyes.

“Callum, you’re so much more than just a mage!” Francis spoke passionately. “You’re a great friend, a creative and talented artist, you’re selfless and striving to have an impact in this world, but most importantly of all you can be so much more. I can see you being something that you think you can’t ever be, something that feels so far away now, but I know you can! It’s possible, you just need to look beyond and not get over obsessed with magic.” Francis’s tone went more pleading. “Whatever you do please don’t let it get into your head that because you can’t contribute in a fight you are useless. Me and Rayla don’t feel like you or Ezran weigh us down nor do we feel obliged because you can’t fight. We are doing it because we love you, this team and the cause we stand for.” Callum shook a little, stunned at the kind words he was hearing. “Callum, despite your losses you are still loved… we are still here beside you.” Callum opened his over bright eyes and met Francis’s shining eyes. They were kind and loving, but also finally level with his. The setting sun warmly washed over their faces now. “At the end of the day, no matter who you are, being a good person always matters.” Francis put a hand around his shoulder to slightly embrace him, resting his head atop of Callum’s. “Being a good and kind person is one of the most important things, especially to me. If you strive to be that, then you will not struggle with doing what’s right and I’m certain that the path for you has magic installed for you.” Callum returned the embrace. He didn’t realise the sudden weight that shifted away from him, as he shut his eyes again.

“I don’t know if what I’m trying to achieve is even possible.” Callum admitted, then perhaps in act of courage and trust, he shown the true darkness of his desperation. “On the other hand, Dark Magic… it’s possible… and it’s easier…” Callum felt Francis’s body tense up, as he pulled away to see his face.

“Callum, Dark Magic is…” Francis began gravely.

“… bad. I know, I’ve heard.”

“It’s not that Callum.” Francis insisted. “Dark Magic is dangerous, a shortcut with unknown consequences. I wanted to become a mage, but was always put off by Dark Magic, plus I am a gifted warrior, so I never became desperate in learning how to become a mage.”

“But it’s powerful and it’s possible.” Callum argued, yet he wasn’t entirely convinced himself.

“It’s destructive and it’s a shortcut. Not only you have to exchange a life for a spell, but it also decays you. It’s like an illness. I’ve seen High Mage Viren turn grey skinned and get grey hair, becoming too weak to do anything else. Dark Magic is taxing and we don’t know how taxing it is exactly, especially in the long term.”

“That doesn’t sound inviting.” Callum pointed out. Despite him being unconvinced, he was still clearly torn and tempted by its feasibility.

“However, I realise that sometimes in order to achieve the best outcome we must sometimes do terrible things.” Francis conceded. “The question is – where do you stop? Will it pay off? I saw you reach out to Claudia’s book…” Francis trailed off as he pondered and Callum froze under the silence. It was wishful thinking that Francis didn’t notice Callum’s temptation, but judging by Francis’s hardened pensive face, he wasn’t sure how to deal with it. Francis continued thinking out loud. “Maybe taking the life of a plant or a bug is bearable if it means saving a life of an elf or a human,”he couldn’t stop himself from shuddering at the thought. “I’m uncomfortable with the idea of exchanging lives. In fact, for me I draw my line when I can’t avoid riding roughshod over someone. Nothing is worth for me in the end if someone has to be tossed aside.” There was a pensive silence, as Callum considered the questions that Francis planted in his head… but they were for him to answer, not Francis. Callum carefully thought how to change the subject of the conversation and remembered that there was one last thing that he wasn’t fully satisfied with.

“Francis?” He finally broke the silence.

“Yes, Callum.” Francis broke out of his thoughtfulness and looked attentively into his eyes.

“Why do you refuse to hold yourself in high regard, like others do?” Callum asked.

“I know my own worth, I haven’t done anything special.” Francis replied without a beat to think. “All I did is have a stint at the tournament and nothing particular of note, apart from choosing to travel across Xadia and meeting you.”

“But that’s not true!” Callum argued. “You’ve helped people, saved their lives without asking for anything in return! You’re selfless and modest despite having extraordinary abilities!”

“When something is special, it’s rare.” Francis spoke with a sagely tone in his voice. “Being a good person shouldn’t be a rarity. Anyone can go out of their way to help people, they just need to get a chance. Considering how much strife people go through every day, it’s not a rare chance to get. The scale on which we help each other differs, but that is the least important thing, when you do things out of the goodness of your heart… and that’s how it should be.”

“Even if the person is in the wrong and has done terrible things?” Callum inquired further.

“Yes, people deserve a chance.” Francis said confidently, as he stood up from the bed. “And although you’ve done nothing _terribly_ wrong, you deserve another chance at being you,”Francis reached out his open palm to beckon to go to the deck with him. Callum accepted feeling himself take off in the lightness he received from their conversation.

“There! You don’t look good when you’re frowning, but you look so much better when there is a smile on your face.” Francis hummed warmly in conclusion.

* * *

The first thing Callum did was go to his brother Ezran, whom he hadn’t seen all day. Him and Zym woke up from their nap and yawned at him in synchrony. Callum hugged his brother tightly.

“What’s that for?” Ezran asked with pleasant surprise ringing in his voice.

“You’re my brother and you mean everything to me.” Callum said with warm and shining honesty.

“Is this a trick?”

“No,” Callum chuckled softly. “I just love you.”

“Well I love you too.” Ezran replied.

“Hey, I don’t want me, interrupting brotherly moments, to become a reoccurrence.” Francis called over from beside Rayla at the bow of the ship. “But we’ve got land in sight!” He pointed towards it.

Callum heard Villads sniff the air. “Aye, we got less than an hour to reach it.” He confirmed.

Callum and Ezran went to join the rest of their friends at the bow and they were all ready and in much chipper spirits that they had been at the beginning of the day… yet a looming shadow quickly passed overhead. It was hard to discern, as it went by so quickly and whatever gave it off must have been flying above the clouds.

“What was that?” Rayla inquired.

“You’re asking the wrong pirate.” Captain Villads humoured. There was clearly something up there, a shape Callum couldn’t recognise… but clearly Francis the journeyman had all the answers.

“It’s just a dragon.” He said casually and the rest of them thought he was joking, but his statement was soon proved by a distant and distinctly draconic roar.

“Just a dragon?” Callum repeated with a sense of dread slowly encapsulating his being.

“Yeah, I’ve seen plenty of them in Xadia and no it’s clearly not roaring because it’s angry.” Francis calmed them down.

“Whatever you say.” Rayla said sarcastically.

“Let’s just focus on getting to the land.” Francis refocused his team. Despite his rest day and it being ‘just a dragon’, it ended up being business as usual for Francis.


	16. A Narrative of Strength

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With The Weeping Bay behind them, Team Zym were now only a couple of hours away from the border. However an incident beside them left the members of the Team very split. Would they risk themselves and the mission to help someone in need? Meanwhile, Lord Viren desperate to be heard over the threatening issue of Xadia, turned to a mysterious elf in the mirror for help.

Ezran found the time he spent with Francis so enriching. He was great fun and funny, yet somehow he knew when to turn serious and be strict. Ezran thought he would escape the boring tutorage of his scholars when he ran away from Katolis, but Francis wasn’t having that. He replaced that role, but somehow made learning so enthralling. He told Ezran the subjects in such a compelling and entertaining way that it really made Ezran excited to keep coming back for more.

Francis always revelled in going above and beyond in anything. You could never hold such an unstoppable force back, be it over his goals or teaching someone something new. So, it wasn’t surprising when he went beyond the normal curriculum for a king, revealing the importance of sharing and passing down knowledge and culture. It really showed how interested Francis truly was in the world around him and how often his intellectual curiosity, as Francis referred to it quite often, needed to be satiated and fulfilled. In fact Ezran almost forgot that these were supposed to be teachings to help him rule Katolis.

What his time spent with Francis also taught him, was to pay careful attention even to the smallest of details… and Ezran was making full use of it.

Over the past few days he kept getting a similar dream. He was in a plain white ethereal existence running towards a group of people: there was his mother and his brother, all in white… and also Zym. They were all calling and waving him to come back home. His mother would always speak calmly and lovingly with an equally loving smile on her face telling him that she would always protect him and that they would always be together, no matter how far apart they were. However every single time Ezran reached them and jumped in for a hug, he would always end up hugging Zym. It was a weird sequence for a dream and to be fair he had a few very weird dreams.

Ezran understood how much he missed his family and the events of the past few days made that feeling more acute to him, as a result Ezran would have passed this as just another dream. However, he couldn’t. Every single time he had this dream there was one significant element absent from it – his father. This caused Ezran to become suspicious and made him think about it more than he would normally. In fact he left Callum, the normally sole recipient of his weird dreams, out of it and would have kept everything to himself, if someone hadn’t asked him about it.

As they were climbing up the side of the mountain towards a cave that Rayla spotted, Francis arose Ezran’s suspicions further with a question. “Did you dream of anything whilst napping today?”

Ezran felt that Rayla and Callum, who were chatting a lot with each other, were far away enough for him to recount to Francis the events of that dream. Ezran noticed how deeply in thought Francis’s brows furrowed.

“Is there something wrong? Is it a little too weird?” Ezran asked.

Francis pondered for a good while and Ezran didn’t expect to receive an answer to his question any time soon, if not at all… but then Francis started speaking light heartedly. “So you know how adults tell you that ‘it’s probably nothing’?”

“Yes.”

“And you have this strange feeling that there is actually something, but the adults don’t know exactly what it is and that it may be nothing and they don’t want your pretty little head to worry about it?”

“Yes.”

“It’s probably nothing.” Francis said with a cheeky smile. Ezran immediately felt at ease at Francis’s honesty, before he seamlessly continued. “Any other weird reoccurring dreams you had?”

“I sometimes keep riding a giant taffy hippopotamus and eating it. Is that weird enough?” Ezran said with overwhelmingly disarming grin.

“Well,” Francis chuckled, as he humoured with an added layer of theatrical accent. “It is highly improbable to defy gravity with taffy and also for the hippopotamus to remain alive whilst being consumed by a kid with an inherited sweet tooth. So yeah I would probably categorise that as weird.” Ezran could only giggle in reply.

The team made it to their ‘cave’. It wasn’t a cave as they originally thought, a simple shelter underneath an overhanging cliff, but Rayla and Francis both agreed that it would suffice. Ezran helped the team break camp for the night.

* * *

The human finally crawled back to him. The Startouch elf had to wait patiently for him, but just as his vision told him, the human returned defeated and lost. He held out his palm and made a cut in it; he was going through with it.

The stars that foretold the visions were rarely wrong, only a very select few could go against the destiny that the stars written and envisioned for them. If it happened then the individual was undoubtedly a special and strong being. Still those beings didn’t completely and repeatedly go against the stars’ prophecies. The elf thought it to be impossible, but for the past four, nearly five years one person disproved that notion completely…

Anyways, the human before him wasn’t anything extraordinary, although he clearly thought of himself as that. Nonetheless he would make a useful short term asset in achieving the elf’s goals.

Clearly the Dark Mage never seen Star Magic before. It was fairly amusing to see his shocked face when a caterpillar crawled out of the elf’s mouth and down to the goblet and teleported to the human’s side. When the human allowed the caterpillar to rest on his ear, there was a further moment of comedy for the elf. He observed, with his hands behind his straight back, the human twist his head in the direction of the caterpillar, whenever the elf produced his smooth silky voice through it.

Eventually, the human spoke back and it was the most euphoric experience the elf had in a while. How long he had to wait, without a clue as to whereabouts of where he was imprisoned, to hear a sound of another voice.

The human clearly had no idea who he was facing – the prodigy the elf used to be, the unstoppable force he became and his actions and choices in pursuit of his goals that brought him infamy all over Xadia and to this place here. If he didn’t know any of it, then the elf’s name would mean nothing to him, but the human was undeterred from finding out, so the elf eventually submitted and told him his name – Aaravos.

The human, who called himself Lord Viren, still persisted and even tried to look for any accounts of Aaravos, but the magic would make sure that whenever anyone laid their eyes on any passages about him, the text would always scramble and the passage would disappear… Aaravos made sure of that.

As a result, Viren didn’t particularly trust him and even threatened to dispose of the mirror and sever ties with him, but Aaravos could see through him… he would never do that. Viren craved knowledge and power, something that Aaravos could provide and unsurprisingly he was given the chance to earn Viren’s trust. Aaravos was very well aware of Viren’s failure to grab attention of the other monarchs, so he offered him to get that attention in a different way.

Under the waning moon, Viren laid out the weapons of the fallen elves from the night of the attack by the lit candle in front of him.

“You tried to win over the other humans with loyalty and friendship, but they ignored you.” He told Viren through the caterpillar on his ear. “Those who fail the tests of love are simple animals and barbaric monsters. They deserve to be motivated by fear.”

Viren pinched the dust from the sanded down horns and threw it into the flame turning it purple. He cast a spell that produced four smoky shadows of the dead assassins, as they picked up their respective weapons.

With his face slowly turning pale and wrinkly, Viren ordered before his voice was too weak to speak. “Bring terror to Del Bar, to Neolandia, to Evenere and to Duren!”

Now all Aaravos had to do was to watch his plan unfold… and wait.

* * *

For the first time it was Callum who stayed up later than usual. He sat on the edge of the cave’s cliff, with the Key in his hand, accompanied by Bait, who provided additional light to the coyly shining moon.

Callum repeatedly rolled the Key to the side in Bait’s direction, trying to figure… something out. There were a lot of things that he needed to grapple with, but naturally he focused on what was right before him, the rolling Key. What exactly was this thing? Could it perhaps help him with magic? Callum stared at the Sky rune, the one he possessed before breaking the Primal Stone. If this cube was a key, then a key to what?

“Are you practicing magic or losing to Bait at a game of rolly-cubes?” A quipping Rayla sat gingerly beside him, interrupting his thought process.

“Magic.” Callum answered… if that could even be called a practice. “I think I’m getting close,” emphasis on ‘think’. “There’s so much swirling around in my head, but I need to find a way to bring it all together.”

“Like some sort of a breakthrough.” Rayla helped explain.

“Yeah,” Callum agreed, accidently thrusting the Key in her direction. Unsurprisingly the Moon rune shone. “What about you? You were born with the Moon Arcanum.” Rayla nodded silently at him, hinting for him to continue, so he rushed on excitedly, on the brink of giddiness. “So when you’re doing cool moon powers you’re connecting to the Moon. How does that feel?”

“I don’t really think about it.” Rayla told him, then looked at the moon with dramatically wide eyes. “I just stand under the light of the full moon and there is a feeling that whooshes over my body.” She waved her hands in front of her to resemble her version of the whooshing. “And then there’s this sort of _ting_ and then… Moonshadow powers!” She exclaimed jumping into the air in some sort of heroic pose. She looked back at Callum. “Does that help?”

“No, not at all.” Callum spoke honestly. “But I enjoyed it!” She smiled at that, seemingly satisfied with his answer.

“You still need to tone down on theatrics!” Francis’s voice called over to her from where he was lying.

“Come on, I did it exactly how you do it!” Rayla argued seemingly confused by his response.

“I beg your pardon, that is so far from the truth!” Francis sounded a little insulted and taken aback by her comments, but his tone remained light hearted.

“‘Lunar goodness’, ‘Moonlit radiance’, ‘the path to my heart’, the whole bowing and accent?” Rayla argued.

“That wasn’t excessive, you deigned it with a perfectly good reply. I can always take it to the next level.” Francis threatened with a jocund tone and Rayla stared at him challengingly, who accepted with a snort. “You little Moon-Ray.”

“Little Moon-Ray?” Callum repeated, perplexed, before he could stop himself.

“I’m going to bind myself to killing you!” Startled, Callum turned his attention to Rayla, but that wasn’t addressed to him. He saw her ears drop and her face flushing red, as she shook her fist at Francis.

“You’re the one who doubted my threat.” Francis casually pointed out. “Yes, Callum, Little Moon-Ray is what her parents called her when she was a ‘wee little elf’.” Callum noticed the threatening glare he received from Rayla and Callum immediately stood up and shot his hands up. “… you’re welcome.” Francis added.

Callum didn’t know how to deal with an annoyed and embarrassed Rayla, so when she opened her mouth to say something, he burst out the first words that came to his mind, cutting her off. “It’s a really nice name, I think it’s cute.”

She stared at him with wide eyes, wider than Callum ever recalled her to have. “No! Shut up!” She replied, stammering. “You’re cute!” She said it like she meant it as an insult, but the actual words betrayed her message, as she slowly turned more and more pink.

“I hate to keep interrupting moments… really I don’t want to keep doing it,” Francis chuckled, though there was a hint of exasperation in his voice. “But could you all be a little quieter. We are trying to get some sleep here.”

“Right, sorry.” Callum was the only one not paralysed enough to reply. “Good night!”

“Good night and don’t stay up too late!” Francis called out one last time.

There was an awkward silence that followed, the reason for which Callum didn’t fully realise. The poor boy really was too oblivious and panicked to realise what he said.

“You really think it’s a nice and cute name?” Rayla asked coyly, breaking the tension.

“Yeah,” Callum agreed, hoping it would soothe her embarrassment.

“You still can’t use it.” Rayla warned with a glare and Callum nodded nervously. She sighed releasing her tension and letting her natural colour come back to her face. “Francis is right, we should get some sleep.”

“You can, Rayla,” Callum said. “I’m going to stay up. I’m so close, I can almost reach it. I need to keep going.”

“Callum, you should get some rest.” Rayla advised.

“Rayla, I have to be a mage again.” Callum was adamant, as he ranted on. “We saw a dragon up in the clouds and things will only get tougher once we’ll get into Xadia… er, Eastern Xadia. And I haven’t mentioned crossing the border! That’s going to be crazy dangerous!”

“Eh, well… maybe not.” Rayla said with a mischievous glint in her violet eyes.

“There’s a river of lava splitting the borders!” Callum exclaimed. “One does not simply walk into Eastern Xadia.”

“Actually, one does simply walk into Eastern Xadia.” Rayla claimed, slowly calming Callum. “There’s a secret path, the Moonstone Path. It will be safe and easy, even for you, magic or no magic.” Rayla softly placed a hand on Callum’s shoulder, as her tone turned more pleading. “Come get some rest.”

Callum really wanted to keep going, but logic prevailed. “You’re right,” he sighed. “Let’s get some sleep.”

* * *

Chasing after their escapees wasn’t a particular difficult task. They all told Soren and Claudia that they were going East to Xadia, or _Eastern_ Xadia as Francis would keep insisting, so all they had to do was keep going East. No, the task was rather extremely inconvenient.

Firstly, they had to go around the stupid bay and secondly they had to keep carrying their prisoner, this chain-man who called himself Corvus. Thankfully, they had their horses and going around the bay was a rather quick process. They just needed to ditch their prisoner in the nearby town that was surrounded by a mountainous area. The tracker attempted to run away three times already, claiming that he would help them track the princes and that this time it would be different. Soren, after Claudia rightfully let him know that this was Corvus’s fourth attempt, eventually shrugged at his suggestions. They promised father they would find the princes; they didn’t need help of some tracker.

When Soren and Claudia arrived at the town to lock up the traitor in jail, for traitorous deeds obviously, Soren announced their presence – the Crown Guard was here. No one however reacted.

“Something seems wrong.” Claudia said, as they came up to a crowd of civilians and guards, who were staring up into the night sky.

“I know,” Soren bemoaned. “No one’s listening to me!”

“What?” Claudia asked and the irony left Soren with a very sour face.

“There!” Someone shouted from the crowd pointing to the sky, causing some people in the crowd to gasp. Soren had to squint for a little bit to discern the shape of a dragon flying up in the clouds. The dragon had the audacity to dive down and come close towards the town, not far away from clipping the tall defence tower right at the centre of the settlement.

“It’s the third night in a row it has flown over us.” One of the guards finally paid attention to the arrivals.

“And you haven’t shot it down yet? What are those ballistas for?” Soren asked incredulously, pointing to the tower that was specifically designed to fend off dragon attacks.

“Um, the plural form is actually ballistae.” The guard attempted to correct him, but was only met with a cynical scowl. “It hasn’t attacked us.” The guard moved on.

“So? It’s the enemy!” Soren exclaimed. “I’m taking command here! Crown Guard, I might have mentioned.”

Soren moved up the tower, forgetting he was tugging Corvus along, who seemed to take the guard’s side. “Hold on! The dragon isn’t attacking! It’s just trying to intimidate us!” He told him.

“Well, then, I’ll just have to show him that the humans won’t be intimidated.” Soren scoffed. He searched for Claudia’s expression, for her approval, but she looked rather uncertain and rightfully worried. Soren loaded the ballista and aimed at the circling dragon.

“Soren, please,” Corvus begged. “Don’t start a fight you can’t finish.” Soren eyed the dragon and without acknowledging Corvus’s words, fired off the ballista. The dragon dodged the shot and immediately soared above the clouds, disappearing into them.

“Ha!” Soren exclaimed. “See, I scared it off! Dragon problem solved.”

* * *

It was an inflamed roar, that woke Team Zym up. The anger was far reaching and very present and it enflamed a mixture of things. Rayla and Francis knew what was up and shot straight up as soon as they got woken up.

“Oh, no. I know that sound.” Rayla announced. “That’s not a good sound.”

“You’re putting it extremely lightly.” Francis said walking towards the edge of the cliff, approximating where the sound came from. Rayla went with him and the pair of groggy Princes eventually followed in their stead.

It was a vivid sight to behold. Orange red gusts splattered across the black sky, revealing the den of the screaming blazing town in the distance below the flying beast.

“Why is the dragon attacking it?” Callum inquired, his eyes wide with horror.

“I don’t know.” Rayla replied equally frozen.

“Dragons usually don’t attack anything unless provoked,” Francis informed. He himself was absentminded, as his eyes remained on the fiery pit. The front of his body wanted to spear forward, right into the heart of the dragon’s fury, but instead it hung slightly over the edge, his hands clenched slightly behind him. Leaving his team wasn’t a good idea, but bringing them with him was an even worse one. As he stood gnawing at his options, tearing himself apart on the inside, he was slowly beginning to hope that the town wasn’t helpless.

* * *

Soren ducked out of the way of incoming flames. He really messed up – not because he was outmatched, but because others were paying for his mistake. His situation wasn’t particularly optimal: one functioning ballista, a tower that was slowly crumbling after each fire attack and a town full of people. Soren had to use everything at his disposal, so he went over to the tied up Corvus and unsheathed his sword decisively.

“What are you doing?” Corvus looked at him perhaps getting the wrong idea. Soren sliced his sword at Corvus’s hands, cutting the ropes that bound him with ease.

“These people need help. Get as many as you can to safety.” Soren ordered.

Corvus got up and nodded at him. “Don’t get yourself killed.” Were his parting words as he went on to carry his job.

Soren looked to the product of his arrogance and impulsiveness – a town ablaze. “I don’t know how to stop this, Claudia.” Soren admitted.

“I have an idea.” She reassured, as she produced a purple box. Within it there was a disgustingly repulsive looking eye of a gryphon and with it Claudia could make sure that the next shot they would fire would hit. Soren was weirded out that she casually carried that around with her everywhere she went, but in the end he had to thank her for it. He had no other choice but to let Dark Magic do its trick.

* * *

“Francis?” Ezran checked on the motionless Francis, who lowered his head to the side. He was trying to come up with a quick plan, but was slowly overwhelmed by the options and consequences presented to him… and it was beginning to show.

“Are you… alright?” Callum asked uncertainly.

Francis scratched at the temple of his head. “Does that look alright to you, Callum?” His reply was firm, as he glanced from the cliffside below him to the fire raging ahead. His hand pensively reached further towards the back of his head… towards the hilt of his sheathed sword.

“You want to help.” Rayla deduced.

“I can’t just stand by the side while people get hurt.” Francis raised his voice, as he started pacing from side to side, showing the direness of his predicament. “But I refuse to abandon you for personal, selfish reasons…” Francis tensed up. In reality he refused to leave them on their own. He was afraid that if he wasn’t there then something bad would happen again, especially if he didn’t know where the biggest danger could come from. It would be completely out of his hands… again. The fact that Francis was well known also posed a problem for the entire team, since it would make travel slower and more difficult for them. It was a risk for Francis getting spotted… forget about getting injured, captured or dying.

“We can all go.” Callum proposed, eager to help, but Francis shot it down immediately without looking at his friends.

“No, absolutely not! I’m not putting any of you in more danger than absolutely necessary. Besides I still don’t know what I’ll do when I get there. What are _you_ supposed to do and how are you going to remain incognito?” Francis pointed blindly at their exact locations. “What if Zym gets hurt? What if Ezran gets hurt? What if they find out Rayla is an elf? What if… what if…” Francis was immediately stopped and brought out of his brooding by a calming and reassuring hand on his shoulder. Francis met the confident and calm look of Rayla’s vibrant eyes.

“Francis, just go.” She persuaded. “We’ll be fine, I promise… just promise us you’ll come back.” Francis was almost soothed by her reassurance… but it wasn’t enough. She was ready to make a promise to him for the princes and yet the fact she had to speak for them was telling.

He sighed heavily and shook his head. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Francis said gravely. “And we’re both not in the position to make such a promise.” Her eyes visibly fell at Francis’s honest message, perhaps she understood what that really meant. None of them were ready to take such responsibility.

“Um, guys,” Callum interrupted. “There’s something weird happening over by the town.”

They sharply turned their attention to the blazing town. Francis’s jaw dropped. Circling around the dragon was a bolt of purple, that refused to demagnetise away from its target. The dragon flew away from the town to try and avoid the inevitable, as it escaped in the team’s direction. The purple bolt didn’t bode well for the dragon, but neither it did for the team. Francis knew that they weren’t far away…

“They hit it!” Rayla exclaimed, mortified by the loud painful groan that the dragon let out as the purple bolt sunk into its side. The dragon careened slightly and was quickly losing altitude as it swerved right towards the team.

“Get down!” Rayla shouted, diving and piling over the princes. Francis instinctively took a knee as his cape flailed, hiding the rest of his lying team. The dragon whipped overhead and crash landed in the forest nearby, creating a clean strip of ripped up trees where its body slid. Anger sparked in Francis’s pitiful eyes as he onlooked at the blazing town, slowly unsheathing his sword.

“It’s dangerous out there! Bait stay with Zym.” Ezran commanded as he ran ahead towards the landing site before anyone had the chance to react. Without arguing or objecting Francis slid down the cliff, while Rayla, initially shocked by the bravery of the boy, used the trees to make her descent. Callum was the only one trying to slow Ezran down, as he ran after him.

As Francis ran after Ezran and the rest of the team, he couldn’t stop looking back over the shoulder in the town’s direction. Danger followed closely from the shadows with a looming purple smile... he hoped they had time.

* * *

It was an overall an ominous day for Marcos. He knew that being in charge was never easy, he just had to remember what Francis went through and how he did it when he lead Katolis to capture and defend the outpost during the tournament. How Francis meticulously went over every small detail.

Marcos was always burdened with logistics, morale and managing the preparation of his troops, but today he had something different, something new, something... concerning. He leant over the letter he had received from The Breach, General Amaya’s handwriting standing clear and firm on that paper. Holding his head in his hands Marcos pondered over the best solution... or rather the least costly one.

If the secret outpost under the lava fall had already fallen to the Sunfire elves, as the letter reported, then what was the point of having it anymore? Sure, it still had strategic value as a foothold, but most of the significance lay in the fact that it was supposed to be a _secret_ outpost.

Marcos’s turmoil was also added by the equally pressing but far more present issue. His men have searched the entire castle twice over and found not a single trace of the man they pursued. He wasn’t there… yet no one saw him leave, in fact it would have been impossible for him to leave the castle unnoticed. Their target had to remain somewhere in the castle, so he kept telling his men to search over and over. Lady Opeli certainly wasn’t resting easy over the fact that he was still missing and would not allow his men or Marcos himself to stop their search.

She claimed that he was too dangerous to be left alone and Marcos feared that to be the case. This man had no qualms to hurt Prince Callum in front of everyone and just after shutting the doors to King Harrow’s chamber, therefore he wouldn’t be afraid to attack if he was found. Unfortunately for General Amaya, no matter how dangerous of a possibility they were facing, Marcos had to prioritise Katolis over The Breach for now... he just hoped they had time.

> _To: General Amaya  
>  Reporting: Commander Marcos at 00:31._
> 
> _We received your message calling reinforcements to defend the fort from a likely Sunfire elf attack, followed up by our counterattack to take back the outpost. We are unable to carry out your request at the current moment and advise that you hold on for the time being. We will proceed with your request as soon as the troops have completed their task at Katolis castle. Lord Viren is convicted for treason and is being searched for._

* * *

The blood red sun rays leaked over the horizon when Rayla and the rest got to the dragon. She froze. The red dragon with pale yellow front laid limp on the ground. Did they kill it? Her anger began to slowly form deep down, but she was too paralysed with shock to do anything yet. She looked as Ezran hesitantly, but bravely approached the motionless dragon and connected his hand with its forehead. While her and Callum stood still, Francis circled the dragon, intently looking for something.

“You’re alive!” Ezran exclaimed as he opened his eyes to meet the dragon’s equally blue eyes. “You’re hurt... Francis, other side beneath her wing!” Francis ran over to where Ezran pointed to.

“Callum and Rayla, give me a hand!” Francis called out. Rayla wasted no time, but she noticed how Callum remained hesitant and restrained in his movements. Eventually they both held the wing up and Francis pulled the protruding bolt out of the dragon’s side.

“You’re going to be okay.” Ezran calmed the dragon down as it twitched with pain. The poor thing was scratched, bruised and cut from top to bottom from its landing and it almost made the same impression as Francis’s scars did when Rayla saw them for the first time. But if Francis’s scars were a sign of the many errors and experience he gained, then these were the fault of the bolt that was enchanted by Dark Magic.

She stomped towards it and angrily threw the bolt away as far as she could, cursing under her breath for its use in Dark Magic. While Rayla gave a little way to frustration and anger, Francis was already treating the dragon’s wound.

“None of the vital organs are located here,” Francis announced. “She shouldn’t be in any grave danger from the wound.”

The dragon groaned, struggling to breathe clearly. Rayla felt the pain in the dragon’s breath.

“Yes, Francis is a human.” Ezran replied. “We all are apart from Rayla, she is a Moonshadow elf. She was supposed to assassinate me.” Ezran said lightly with a chuckle, making just about everyone tense up. Thankfully for everyone, Ezran still wasn’t connecting the dots about his father.

“She can try to push me away all she wants, but I’m helping her no matter what. She’s too weak to do anything.” Francis spoke adamantly, as he rubbed aloe paste into her smaller scratches and wounds. The dragon snorted.

“She is asking how are you not afraid?” Ezran translated.

“Oh, make no mistake, I’m very afraid.” Francis looked over his shoulder. “I really hope that they won’t notice that the bolt is way over to the side and that your wound is treated,” he looked intently back at treatment. “But duty prevails and I must do what’s right. Besides, I know what not to do around dragons.”

The dragon breathed heavily and made a noise, one that Ezran interpreted as inquisitive.

“I’ve met some dragons when I was in Eastern Xadia,” Francis replied before Ezran even opened his mouth. “Last time I had an encounter was nearly a month ago, when I crossed over into Western Xadia. It wasn’t a particularly pleasant encounter.” Francis grimaced slightly at the memory of it. “He may have been blind, but he was very precise and sharp with his attacks.” Francis paused for a split second, as he regarded some of the surrounding injuries. “Also, do get used to my geopolitical terminology – I’m not changing it.”

“How did you know what she communicated to me?” Ezran asked, staring at Francis with his mouth open.

“Felt it was the most logical follow up question in our conversation.” Francis said without looking at Ezran, as he continued to treat the wound. Francis allowed a grin make its presence on his face, reflecting some of the sun rise around him. “Also close your mouth, you don’t want a wisp or a fly wander in there and make itself a home.”

“It’s not open,” Ezran protested, closing his mouth shut. “You’re not even looking!”

“Don’t need to look, to know that it was.” Francis crooned, still focusing solely on the wound.

“Your name is Pyrrah?” Ezran looked back at the dragon’s eyes, surprised. “That’s a nice name, thank you for sharing it with us!”

“She trusts us.” Francis pointed out the obvious, then continued light-heartedly. “At least, I know I won’t get burned into a crisp when she gets up.” He noticed how the dragon’s body relaxed and went limp again.

“She passed out.” Ezran announced, as his hand dropped to the side. Great timing as per usual in these situations. “She’s too exhausted.”

“Understandably,” Francis said absentmindedly, as he put the finishing touches into treating her wound.

“I hear something,” Rayla cocked her head in the direction of the noise, tensing immensely. “Horses?”

“I feared that to be the case,” Francis sighed gravely, looking over his shoulder towards the source of the noise. He shot straight up, glanced at their surroundings and pointed. “Everyone, quick! Behind that apple tree!”

“We’re not going to fight to protect the dragon?” Rayla asked, stupefied.

“Not yet.” Francis reassured and waved Rayla on. The team ran over to the said apple tree, leaving Rayla somewhat impressed with the speed and efficiency of Francis’s choice. The cover didn’t obscure the field at all, but it was concealing enough for them to remain very well hidden. “Do be careful, these apples are ripe and you don’t want one falling on your head! It could easily knock you out.” Francis warned.

The team watched as a large escort, at least a good two dozen, of Katolis soldiers arrive at the clearing, headed by Soren and Claudia. Rayla felt her lips purse into the smallest form she could imagine. She heard Callum make a small gasp beside her. She followed his gaze and found that he was looking incredulously at Claudia.

“Wasn’t it one of your life goals to take down a dragon?” They heard her tease Soren, then she proudly pointed at herself. “But who did?”

“Alright, secure the dead dragon with chains!” Soren ordered.

Rayla wanted to get out there and stop this right this instant. In fact she reached out to her blades... but someone stopped her. A hand on her shoulder, firm and decisive. She thought it was Francis, but it was actually Callum, who shook his head at her.

“Come on, we need to go back.” He told the rest, making Francis eye him with raised eyebrows.

“We can’t just leave the dragon defenceless.” Rayla protested.

“We have to get back to Zym.” Ezran reasoned… reluctantly so.

“We can’t help her, there’s too many of them.” Callum pointed out and turned to leave with his brother. “We did all we could.” He added.

The princes were going with their heads hanging, but Rayla and Francis didn’t budge at first, watching the soldiers dismount and go about their usual business. It seemed that the Trouble Siblings were in charge as Francis and Rayla listened closely to their conversation.

“There’s so many things you can do with a dragon!” Claudia exclaimed. “There’s an entire chapter dedicated to its snot, it’s some powerful goo!” Soren grimaced at the disgusting image that description presented. “We don’t have the Dragon Prince, but do you think if we brought this dragon home, dad would…”

“It’s something,” Soren agreed. “But how are we going to move this thing? It weighs at least a million tonnes!”

“In pieces.” Claudia hummed.

Rayla went for the blades immediately, turning redder by the second. She could see Francis’s nostrils flare up at that as well. She thought he would join her right there and right now, but she would be left in total shock.

“We’re going back to the camp.” Francis spoke decisively.

Rayla dropped her blades at that. “What?!” She almost said too loudly, forcing Francis to draw a finger to his lips.

“We need to make sure that _all_ the princes are safe first,” Francis said with a stoic expression on his face. “Right now is not the time to strike.” Rayla saw the apologetic and understanding look in his face, she now knew exactly what he went through overnight, looking at a burning town. He definitely understood the feelings she was experiencing right now and although she wasn’t entirely confident and happy on leaving the dragon, she trusted his leadership.

She reluctantly put her blades away, unhappy to have being the only one who wanted to stay and fight this instant and absentmindedly followed the princes with Francis.

* * *

Callum felt immediate relief as soon as they got back and away from the dragon that probably killed people in that town. It reminded him of what he saw in the tower on the night his father died and the picture it deeply scratched in Callum’s brain. Oh, how much he would love to forget that image, but it also reminded why they all set out in the first place – to stop all of that from happening.

He however felt a little empty at the fact that he couldn’t influence the situation at all. Not for the first time, he noted… yet he kept telling himself that they did everything they could and that priorities laid elsewhere.

Ezran immediately went over to hold Zym in his hands, mirroring Callum’s relief at the fact that Zym was safe. Despite their ease, not everything was fine. Callum would gladly move on and set out to Eastern Xadia, since they were only a couple of hours from the border… yet there were two visual reminders of their choice to walk away that prevented Callum from remaining entirely at ease.

The two warriors of the team, intense, stoic, heroic and so full of vigour and energy were a distant and far depleted images of themselves. Them being side by side only magnified that acute emptiness in Callum’s mind. They both looked removed and uneasy from their surroundings, as though as they would rather be somewhere else.

Francis was scarily absent, as he sat up against the grey stone rocks, almost sinking into the background around him and becoming invisible. Every move of his body was subtle and quiet, suppressed even. Despite his vacant disposition, he was staring to the forest below them with the most crystal clear and determined look. His mind burrowed far deep inside of him, focused on looking for an answer to an impossible scenario.

Rayla on the other hand was a little despondent and torn. She sent him feelings of déjà vu, as she stood over the cliff edge facing where the dragon crashed. Her body leant so far forward that her back foot was slightly lifted and only her toes held back to the ground. Her hands also clenched slightly behind her, as she lowered her head clearly overwhelmed at the possibilities. There was some kind of ferocity in the way her face twitched every so often.

It unsettled Callum and didn’t give him any rest over their current state. Sure, Francis could occasionally depart the realms of the living and prefer to dig deep into his mind, solving a problem, but for Rayla to be so hesitant… this was different and Callum could feel it like he felt the sunny rays slowly disappear from their camp, as greying clouds began to cover it.

“I should have done something,” Rayla spoke her thoughts, perhaps sensing Callum’s attention.

“Rayla, you constantly remind us that getting Zym to Eastern Xadia is the most important thing,” Callum pointed out. “Why are you hesitating now?”

“I’m not hesitating!” Rayla retorted, fiercely turning and shooting him a glare. “This is different! Every fibre in my body is telling me this is wrong! That dragon is defenceless and I just left her there!”

“I don’t get it, that dragon burned an entire town full of people.” Callum argued.

“Someone once told me that when one person hurts another and then that person hurts him back, it becomes a cycle that never ends.” Rayla said with conviction, looking right into Callum’s eyes.

“Who told you that?” Callum eventually asked, clearly slightly disarmed by her response.

“You did,” Rayla responded calmly, leaving him stunned. Her eyes could be read as one of surprise at the fact that Callum didn’t recognise his own words, so she continued. “But, Callum, to break that cycle, someone has to take a stance when no one else will.”

Callum felt ironic to have been disarmed by his own words, but he slowly became disgusted with himself at the fact he said something so right to Rayla, yet didn’t follow it when he left that dragon.

“You’re right,” he said somewhat defeatedly. “If we really want to change things, we have to do more than get Zym back home. We can’t be bystanders when humans and Xadians hurt each other.” His tone slowly turned more frustrated and darkly desperate, as he spoke louder and louder. “But how do I take a stand? Believe me, I want to go down there with you and be the heroes that stop all the fighting and save the day, but I can’t do that. I can’t do anything!” Callum couldn’t fight the impulse to turn back and retreat into the cave, hiding under the long dark shadows. However if he couldn’t, then Rayla could, as she grabbed him by his wrist and turned him back to face her.

“It’s okay Callum,” she tried to reassure him, as she spoke calmly. Callum at first averted his eyes from looking at her, but eventually found the bravery to look into them. Her eyes shone with conviction and care. “I’m not asking you to come down there with me. Protecting the dragon doesn’t just feel like the right thing to do, it feels like the right thing for me to do. It’s where I’m meant to be.” Rayla twisted around and walked over to the cliff edge, as she announced. “I’m going back down there. If I don’t come back, Francis can lead you, Ez and Zym to Eastern Xadia.” She paused almost shaking off the last traces of hesitance, that were naturally present in serious decisions like these and the implications they had. Callum heard something shuffle behind them, as though someone was rushing to their feet. Clearly, Rayla heard it too. “I believe in you.” She concluded with a solemn tone.

“Rayla, wait!” Callum tried to grab her, but she leapt away before he could.

“Rayla!” Callum heard Francis shout after her, but she was already leaping off of the branches and into the forest. Francis wasted no time and reacted immediately. “Make sure you all stay safe, I’m going after her and I promise she’ll come back.” Francis fearlessly jumped over the edge and used the sword again to slow down his descent. Callum could clearly hear Francis grumble. “Moonshadow elves and trees – it’s so not fair!” Perhaps it kept his spirits high.

Callum, bitter at himself, looked on painfully as he watched Rayla’s green suit and eventually Francis’s green cape disappear into the forest’s leaves.

* * *

They were getting close to the dragon’s crash landing site and Rayla finally descended to the ground and began to slow down.

“Rayla, wait!” Francis called after her. Rayla staggered, stopping for a split second, maybe even surprised at the fact that he kept up with her.

“You don’t have to help me! I’ve trained with you, I can handle this!” Rayla replied not particularly convincingly. She was about to start running again, but Francis managed to grab her by her forearm.

“You’re right, I don’t have to, but do you think I care so little for you that I will let you do this alone?” Francis’s grip remained strong. “Besides, this shouldn’t be faced alone. We’re a team, remember?”

“I thought you cared about the princes staying safe?” Rayla asked and Francis sensed that she must have been referring to when he faced last night’s dilemma.

“I didn’t know where the threat was,” he explained. “But we all know that the biggest danger is ahead of us and you are heading right towards it.” Francis knew how strong willed Rayla was, but it was also clear to Francis that Rayla would be willing to do anything to free the dragon... little did she know that Francis was even more determined to make sure she made it back to the princes.

“You’re heading towards that danger too.” Rayla pointed out.

“With you – gladly.” Francis proclaimed and almost felt liberated by the subtle implication it had, known only to him. There were many things that Francis gave up, sacrificed and lost, somehow simultaneously too many things and yet seemingly not enough. It had been so long since Francis felt so comfortable to dedicate himself to something other than his cause and beliefs; to dedicate to anything other than solely himself. For the past fortnight, Callum, Rayla, Ezran, Zym and Bait had returned Francis to that level of altruistic dedication. They gave him that opportunity to reexperience what teams… no, true friendship felt like… and he had no intention of giving up on them. In fact he would go as far as to lay his own life for their friendship and their wellbeing.

Francis didn’t want to lose any of them, however sentiment aside, he understood that losing Rayla would also be more damaging strategically. He knew that the gesture of humans returning Zym to Eastern Xadia was a powerful one. Rayla knew that too, but what Francis fully realised before anyone else did, was that the gesture of humans and an elf returning Zym _together_ was a far more effective one. Unfortunately, there was only one elf in their party and that meant that she was indispensable. After all, there was no guarantee that Katolis soldiers wouldn’t kill her outright, even after capturing… yet they wouldn’t do the same with Francis, he was more useful to them alive… and there were other humans in their team…

Rayla grabbed Francis back by his forearm, breaking his momentary daze. “Two warriors of Team Zym?” She asked, seizing up the unwavering song of confidence in his face, her face now in concert too. It was becoming an anthem now.

“Together.” Francis replied. They shook their forearms.

“Okay, what do we do? What’s the plan?” She inquired, already relying on his tactical acumen, as they turned to approach the site.

“I don’t know everything,” he admitted, as she put her hood over her head. “So the plan is to improvise and stay hidden as long as we can.”

In reality it was all set and clear for Francis. There was only one plan, a plain and simple objective that took priority over anything else – protect Rayla, no matter what happened. She had to return to the princes alive.

* * *

“What are you doing?” Ezran asked after he stopped rubbing noses with the playful Zym.

“I’m just drawing, Ez.” Callum replied curtly, pointing out the obvious. He had immediately retreated back to his sketchbook after the warriors of the team left, drawing everything that came to his mind… and there was only one thing that was acutely at the forefront of it.

“You seem upset,” Ezran pointed out gingerly.

“Yep, I draw when I’m upset.” Callum replied with an annoyed sigh, pressing his pencil harder on the paper, ignoring the missing sun and the grey shadow that were forming in its place in the sky. He was already drawing the fourth mini-sketch of Rayla, having already done the sketches of her heroic pose, a daring smirk and a brave charge. Her words still rang in his head, shaking him to the core as though as he was hearing it for the first time.

His pencil pressed harder across the paper, etching the jagged lines in darker colours. She actually cared about him. How? How was that possible? He was nothing, a nobody at the moment, just a simple step-prince without his magic! Yet, she valued his words, so much so that she used them in her reasoning. It made him bitter that he didn’t realise they were his words in the first place. HIS! It made him disgusted at himself for not following and standing by his words, but it made him absolutely abhor himself for being so unbelievably useless!!!

The charcoal snapped…

Callum let out a cry and savagely threw the book at his feet, its slam causing the book to flip back a few pages. Callum couldn’t believe how much of a let-down he was… and somehow Rayla still had faith in him. He couldn’t follow his own words, let alone act upon it. How could Francis and Rayla care about him so much, if all he did was hold them back, all of the team and all of their progress? What had he told himself about not being impulsive? He wasn’t even holding himself together in front of his younger brother!

Callum sunk down to pick his sketchbook back up… and his eyes immediately fell upon his sketch of Claudia. He would have closed it as quickly as he could, but he couldn’t avert his eyes from what she was holding, what she was reading. Despite it being a charcoal drawing, Callum could vividly see the overriding purple and golden colours on the book with two coiling serpents. His fingers etched ever so slowly towards the drawing of the tome of Dark Magic. He wasn’t sure if he could do it… if he should do it… he had no idea what to do or what would even happen!

Callum saw the sun completely hide behind the grey clouds that were in the sky. Last time he went in blindly, it almost cost his life as well as the life of Zym. But this wasn’t a question of whether he could do it – he _had_ to do it. It was for a good intention, to save multiple lives, an elf, a human and a dragon, at the expense of one, hopefully not too large, magical creature. It wasn’t too terrible a price to protect his friends? It was what a good person would do, right?

Previously he was totally shook by Rayla’s admission of possibly giving her life up for the dragon, but now he was strangely driven to prevent that from happening. He wouldn’t let her or anyone else down! That pain of possibly losing Rayla transformed into unbridled determination to help her and Francis to free that dragon and succeed without losing them. He snatched the book up and closed it immediately, lowering his face and marching head first towards the forest. Being a good person mattered, even if achieving his good intentions entailed a terrible practice.

“Ezran, stay here, protect Bait and Zym!” He made his parting comments to his little brother, frowning at Zym who was trying to follow him.

“Hey, Zym let’s play hide and seek.” Ezran enticed Zym, who immediately turned his attention back to the minor of the brothers. Callum thanked that his brother was a little oblivious to the danger that was technically very near him, but Callum focused on trying to come up with how he would unchain the dragon. Perhaps his mind would be clearer once he knew what he was dealing with. Callum cut across the camp and ran.

* * *

Water droplets slowly patted the forest around Francis, while he scanned the area from behind the apple tree, looking for the best way possible to approach the situation. He immediately signalled Rayla to advance on her own. Stealth was one of her natural strengths and if the rain got any stronger it would worsen the visibility ever so slightly. They had to avoid an open fight, considering how slowly slippery the conditions were becoming and the fact that they were heavily outnumbered. More than half of the soldiers still remained further up the clearing, while the rest patrolled around the dragon. If their reinforcements were alerted and they made it before the dragon was freed, then one of them weren’t making it. But one thing at the time, right now they were hidden and everything else was secondary.

Francis noticed a guard on his lonesome, daydreaming to the side not too far away from the tree. It disappointed Francis to see a Lieutenant be so lacklustre, how did he get promoted to this rank in the first place or have things really declined ever since Francis went away? When it was relatively safe to do so, Francis grabbed the soldier from behind and pulled him back towards the apple tree, making sure he didn’t make a noise.

“Recognise my voice? Maybe my cape will give you a hint?” Francis whispered chillingly into the guard’s ear, as he froze at the realisation of who was grabbing him. Rayla also made her moves at the same time, sending three guards to sleep with her swift punches, as she moved graciously quiet towards the roped and chained dragon.

“See the elf,” Francis nodded in Rayla’s direction. “She is a really nice and fierce person and she isn’t afraid to play rough if she wants to achieve her goals… kind of like me, when I need to. So make too loud a noise and I will hurt you.” Francis pointedly tightened his grip around the guard’s neck. “Tell me where are the keys to the dragon’s chains?”

“We didn’t use locks,” the guard’s voice quivered. “We just fixed them with pegs.”

“Ah, that’s unspeakably inconvenient.” Francis sighed, who switched his attention to Rayla. She was cutting rope with her sword… and unfortunately that made noise. Rayla had to rush it and despite trying her best, one of the guards who stood in front of the dragon heard it. Thankfully, his companions left him moments ago and he was on his own.

“I’m sorry for what I’m about to do.” Francis told the guard he was holding. He pulled the guard towards him and smacked him into the apple tree, knocking him out. Francis caught one of the falling apples and threw it at the alerted guard. It hit him right in the head knocking him out, before he could say anything. Unfortunately, despite Francis’s quick reactions and thinking, the clank of the armour made too much noise. The rest of the guards who were behind the dragon were still alerted.

Francis ran up from the bushes towards Rayla who unsheathed her second sword and backed off slightly from the dragon. They got slowly surrounded by eight Katolis guards, four at the front and four at the back, who constantly said ‘Him?’ under their breaths. Some had a malicious and disgusted tone to them and some had a surprised and unsettled one. Francis quickly whispered to Rayla. “Front or back?”

“Front.” She replied, not missing a beat.

“Okay, let me do the talking. I’ll know when you’re ready.” Francis hinted that he was going to strike first. He needed to keep the guards preoccupied with them, without alerting the rest.

“How do I know when you’ll be ready?” Rayla asked from underneath her hood.

“Once you figure out how I got those scars on my palms.” Francis replied. He glanced behind him for a split second, looking for the biggest, most eager soldier out of the guys behind him.

“Are you not going to get your sword out?” Rayla asked perturbed.

“Not yet.” Francis said with a mischievous smile, then spoke loudly to the surrounding guards. “So, gentlemen,” Francis spun around, his arms outstretched and open at first. His eyes skimmed subtly over the guards. The guy directly behind him was certainly eager to fight. His face gave away his intentions and it was also very unfriendly and repulsive looking… to put it lightly. He had the stance, grip and everything ready. Shame he assigned himself an early bath by being so obvious. He continued in a friendly manner. “Lovely weather, huh? How are we all doing?”

The soldiers looked understandably confused, but Francis would continue his unconventional behaviour to unsettle them further. Their commander finally spoke. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, we’re just here to free that dragon over there.” Francis said nonchalantly. “We don’t want trouble and we certainly don’t want to fight. Just give us a moment and we’ll be right out of here, not causing you anymore trouble.”

“Have you lost your mind? We cannot let you do that! It will attack everyone here!”

“Oh, but I’m afraid you can’t stop me.” Francis said seriously. “You do still remember me? I wasn’t one to give up easily; I was and still stubborn and headstrong… and Rayla, my elf friend, is far worse in that regard than me.” The soldiers exchanged surprised looks.

“There is eight of us and only two of you. You can’t possibly think you’ll succeed?!” The commander spat. Francis looked around, pretending to count the soldiers. The spacing between their opponents were worse than he remembered. The guy to the left looked nervous but experienced. He probably wouldn’t hesitate in his attacks.

“Eight versus two – four to one… I like those odds.” Francis smiled unnervingly for the soldiers. “Are you going to allow me to demonstrate to you what I did at the tournament? My elf friend only heard stories of that fight…”

“Surrender yourselves, now!” The commander ordered and Francis pointedly rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“Tsk tsk tsk, bad move, buddy. I don’t respond well to threats,” he said with a far graver tone, ominously lowering his head. “I mean have you seen what we did to the previous group?” He pointed to the knocked out soldiers, and as he moved some of the soldiers twitched and backed away slightly, clearly intimidated and unnerved by his composed demeanour.

Francis made a mental note of those who backed slightly. The ones he would have to deal with were the two soldiers on the right. They looked like this was their first time facing a fight and unfortunately they stood way too close together. Francis scratched the back of his head, readying to draw his sword if somebody decided to attack first, which wouldn’t be ideal. “And she did most of them. Moonshadow elves are extremely ruthless if you annoy them.” Francis noticed Rayla’s backfoot shift slightly – she was ready… so was he.

“I’m giving you the last chance here!” The commander barked.

“Hold on, what?” Francis laughed in his face and pointed out sarcastically. “You read the room well, because you don’t have a chance to give. You’re actually throwing away _your_ last chance here.”

“What?” The commander looked completely taken aback by his words.

“So,” Francis said, casually unsheathing his sword. “I am being honest and serious when I say we don’t want to hurt anyone. So, anyone who doesn’t want to fight us can leave.” Francis used his sword to point around him at the soldiers, as he urged them. “Don’t waste your chance! There’s nothing shameful about walking away from a fight you know you can’t win!”

“I order everyone to remain put, it will be treated as desertion if you walk away!” The commanding officer said when there was a very tense pause, as he looked at every single soldier. He dared to look back at Francis. “Who do you think you are, trying to control the situation where you are in the weaker position?”

“Firstly, my name is Francis and secondly, you just ordered your men to not listen to me, even though I’m in your so-called weaker position.” Francis pointed out boldly. “I guess they’ll thank you later for this. Thirdly, you’re wrong. When you’re outnumbered and feared, you have all the power in the stand-off.”

“Feared?”

“Seriously, you have to be blind to not see the direness of your situation. How are you even a commander?” Francis sighed with genuine exasperation and actually looked offended by the man he was talking to. “Look at the body language of your soldiers and look who you’re facing: a ferocious elf and a well-known fighter who won whilst being outnumbered. We have all the power.” Francis trailed off, he honestly had enough with trying to explain to that idiot the severity of their situation. The fact that he looked like he was about to rant away, made it a perfect time to strike. He flipped the sword in his hand, hissing when his palm caught it by the blade. “Because you’ll never see this coming!”

Francis spun behind and used the hilt to hit the eager guy behind him right in the face, rendering him unconscious from the get go. He flipped the sword in the air, kicking the guy to his right in the chest, sending him flying and falling on the friend next to him. Catching the sword by the hilt, Francis blocked the incoming strike and gave the experienced soldier a righteous right hook, knocking him out. Francis quickly moved to deal with the last two who were trying to get up. He punched the first one and then pulled his hand back to finish off the second one. He saw the fear in the last guy’s eyes and Francis warned sternly. “I don’t usually give second chances, so unless you want to end up worse than the guy above you, you’ll stay lying down! Got it?” The soldier quickly nodded.

Francis looked up and around, to see that Rayla was still fighting… yet she already did short work of her four soldiers, as their unconscious bodies laid on the ground and their helmets rolled to the side. She was fighting a fifth guy… Soren. They caught the initial group of soldiers off guard, but considering all the noise caused by it, the backup was unfortunately already coming up. Francis ran towards the pair and parried Soren’s jab, getting in front of Rayla.

“Rayla, I got him.” Francis urged. “Your swords might be better at cutting through that chain than mine. I’ll take care of this.” Rayla reluctantly followed Francis’s words and headed for the dragon.

“A fair rematch with an escaped traitor, a dead dragon and elf, all in a day’s work.” Soren gloated. The sounds slowly became muffled as it began to pelt with rain and Soren had to shout for Francis to hear anything. “Oh, I’ll enjoy seeing your face when everything around you collapses.”

“You are still so full of yourself,” Francis disappointingly shook his head from side-to-side. “Who even are you beyond your pompous muscles and sword fighting that you define yourself by so much? What are you going to do when all of that will eventually be gone?” Francis held himself back and Soren took the opportunity and vigorously struck at him.

“Says you!” Soren exchanged angrily, swinging wildly. “You are a waste!! You had everything served to you because of your name and you were so arrogant that you took none of it seriously and instead threw that completely away!!!”

“I took everything in and kept moving forward.” Francis held his attacks with a great degree of composure, efficiently moving his body with the least amount of effort needed. “I just never wanted to be a pawn in their machinations and continue their violent cycle. I never wanted to pretend to be someone I wasn’t.”

“Like you knew better than they did?” Soren jumped at him, their foreheads barely touching.

“No one knows me better than I do!” Francis headbutted Soren away, but didn’t run after him. He conserved his own energy. He wiped the heavy obscuring raindrops away from his eyes and glanced at Rayla who was on top of the dragon and fruitlessly trying to cut through the chains. “In life you need to trust yourself the most over anyone else and so I strived to achieve that. So no, I wasted none of the training and I pushed beyond that. And yeah, I knew myself better than those who were in charge, which is why it was such a shock to them when I escaped their chains of self-serving power. It was the only right and logical conclusion for me.”

“You were too weak to carry out a job they were willing to give to you!” Soren accused and ran back at him, after catching his breath.

“I was strong to stand up and point out to them the flaws of their ways and then make my own decision and not bend my knee on the actions they wanted to forcefully bestow upon me.” Francis swatted and stepped out of the way of Soren’s overarching swipes.

“Those who are in charge know better!” Soren went for a punch, but Francis’s bloodied hand caught it.

“And how come you didn’t kill the princes, despite what your father asked you?” Francis pushed Soren far back… and he didn’t come back for another wave of attacks. He stood there wide eyed and mouth slightly agape, his body hunched guiltily.

_Twang!_

Despite Soren’s pause, Francis didn’t get too much time to rest as he narrowly dodged a whistling arrow from the first archer. The second archer was already aiming at him and he let go of the string… Francis lifted his blade to deflect the arrow away from his face. His breath quickened in response to the adrenaline that shot though his bloodstream from his reflexes.

“What are you doing?” Francis barely heard Soren shout back at the archers, but the next words were indiscernible… well, all but one – ‘elf’.

_Protect Rayla, no matter what!_ Pumped loudly in his head and ears, drowning any other noise for the time being.

Francis stopped feeling the enveloping coldness of the rain and the water that made his clothes and cape heavy, as he himself became the cold calculating force that would push through and destroy the castles and forts. Francis sprinted at the pair of archers. The first archer had already reloaded. He was too far away to be reached before he would fire.

“Rayla, look out!” Francis screamed as loudly as he could, as he picked up one of the rolling helmets. He drew his arm, the world around him slowing down to a series of pictures. The archer was about to let go. Francis judged the trajectory. Francis threw the helmet.

_Twang!_

The tip of the arrow sped through the air towards Rayla, slicing the droplets on its path.

_Clang!_

The helmet met the arrow’s tip and sent it sideways far off target. Francis didn’t wish for fortune to be on his side at that moment, he was too laser focused and had too much self-belief that he would succeed, but in retrospect he wouldn’t deny how fortuitous that move was.

Francis didn’t stop running. He flung his sword at the first archer, its hilt meeting the archer’s jaw. He clattered to the ground. Francis flew at the second archer. Panicking, the archer pointed the bow at him, but it was already too late. Francis grabbed the archer’s wrist and quickly locked it in his elbow. He wasn’t taking any chances. “Nothing personal.” He managed to say before he quickly and cleanly snapped the wrist in his elbow. “Don’t move it!” He quickly advised to the shrieking archer.

Francis went back for his sword and noticed how Soren was going for it as well, about to pick it up. Francis instinctively spun on his front foot and swung his back leg around, its foot crushing into Soren’s face. He was sent backwards, dazed. Francis retrieved his sword and immediately made sure that Rayla was safe.

“These metal chains are too difficult to cut through.” She shouted desperately, just about getting to Francis. He rushed over to her, but just as he made his way, he finally noticed how over a dozen soldiers were swarming towards them and how Claudia was already here, taking off her travelling bag… her eyes suddenly turned purple and looked right at Rayla.

_Rayla!_

Francis inhaled the cold air deeper and quicker as he sprinted his lungs out. A purple fire ball formed in Claudia’s palm. Francis climbed the dragon. Claudia threw it at Rayla. Francis dove, stretching his hands in front of Rayla. Only then Rayla noticed the danger that was heading straight to her chest, and put her blades up… but Francis was already mid jump. Francis felt the scorching sensation in his left arm as the fireball hit him. He rolled down the dragon’s side onto the ground, holding back an agonising hiss, with his left hand twitching from the purple marks that formed on his forearm. Thankfully, it was raining and not only it made Claudia’s attack less effective, but there was also an abundant amount of water to cool his wound. He heard Rayla clamour his name a couple of times, but too stunned to immediately answer Francis crawled back up the dragon’s back. He ignored the pain that was still ever present in his left arm and somewhat recovered as he reached Rayla.

The soldiers were slowly encircling them, but seeing Francis just take a hit from Dark Magic and get back up from it made them freeze in astonishment. With the smoke still sizzling from his arm, Francis stood up straight, slowly taking in the situation he and Rayla now found themselves in. The reinforcements came and the dragon was still not free…

_Rayla!_

Despite the challenge, his cape still unconditionally coiled in the wind over him and Rayla, as they got completely surrounded by the unnerved soldiers.

* * *

Viren stumbled into his work chamber, locking the door behind him. He looked for his collection of Sunray Monarchs he had behind one of the rotating bookshelves that would restore his normal look. Limping on his staff, he made his way to it.

“You’re in danger,” Aaravos told him urgently, yet composed. “They have come for you.”

“Lord Viren!” One of the soldiers banged at the door, confirming Aaravos’s words. “Open up by the order of the High Council!”

“Do as I tell you,” Aaravos continued calmly. “Prepare for battle.”

Lord Viren obligingly extended his staff, shaking off the surprise at Aaravos’s convenient clairvoyance. He pushed away the exhaustion in his body, not knowing how he would be able to fight his way through. The banging on the door became more and more forceful.

“Well? Open it up for them!” Viren heard Aaravos chuckle as the purple stone on his staff began to glow. The exhaustion flew away in an instant as he felt indescribable amount of energy shared with him through the staff. He blew the door into smithereens, flinging the corpses of those who stood too closely back. The soldiers rushed to him trying to overwhelm him, but one by one they were mowed through: some shattered into bits of ice on the floor, some disintegrated into ashes.

Viren struck the floor with his staff sending shockwaves that threw the remaining soldiers to the side. One of the flung corpses collided with the painting that revealed the entrance to Viren’s secret dungeon. He was about to make his way over to hide it, when an arrow met his leg, making him collapse on his knees.

“Surrender, Viren!” Lady Opeli ordered.

“Stop. It’s over.” Aaravos told him.

Viren thrusted the arrow out resentfully, crushing it in his fist. “But I can destroy them all! I have all the power I need!” He said to the caterpillar on his ear. Viren must have sounded like a deranged lunatic, he certainly looked withered enough to be one.

“Stop!” Aaravos commanded, seeing that Viren was getting up on his feet.

“You’re completely surrounded, Viren! Give yourself up!” Opeli spoke down to him. “Don’t make me say the word!” The archers beside her pulled at their strings ready to fire. Viren suddenly felt this new found energy leave him, as the emptying exhaustion crushed him. Viren dropped his staff and was immediately grabbed by two soldiers.

“You… have betrayed me,” Lord Viren uttered.

“No, I will stay with you.” Aaravos whispered, as the caterpillar crawled into Viren’s ear.

Aaravos needed Viren alive and causing too much noise right now was unnecessary… if not detrimental. There would be a perfect opportunity to showcase their full power later… they would both have to just wait in their cells.

* * *

Well, this was a predicament and a half… it must have been his birthday. Not that Francis enjoyed himself and others getting hurt or navigating life threatening situations, but he loved tackling challenges. The harder the challenge, the better it was.

Francis knew that it was highly improbable to fight their way out… unless he managed to completely rattle the soldiers. They were already shaking, whether it was from the biting wind and the cold piercing rain or because they were intimidated, Francis wasn’t sure. In the end, he would have to rely on his tongue and articulate diplomacy to succeed in his objective.

“One time offer, ladies and gentlemen!” Francis presented loudly. “Before I say the best proposition you will get in this conversation, I would like to warn you that my next offers will decline in their appeal.”

“You are in no position to negotiate!” Soren limped back towards them, carefully pinching and rubbing his previously assaulted nose.

“May I point to the previous likewise minded group of soldiers who were just shy of the numbers me and Rayla are facing right now.” Francis replied nonchalantly and sensed the panicky glances that the soldiers gave out. “You let the dragon and Rayla go free, that’s unconditional. I will submit and come as your prisoner.”

“What? No!” Rayla pivoted her head towards him. “Are you crazy?”

“Yes, but I’m not mad.” Francis reminded earnestly. He should have seen her objections coming.

“Absolutely not, you’re not getting rid of me that easily!” Rayla protested. Before Francis could brush her notions off, she declared to the soldiers. “We are not backing down without a fight! If you want any one of us, come and get it yourself!” She challenged, gesticulating her sword in a tauntingly beckoning motion.

“I guess we have a quarrel back in your camp.” Soren sneered. “Every single one of you is coming with us, a dead dragon, a soon to be dead elf and a soon to be executed traitor.”

“Well, that offer is off limits now,” Francis announced, although that wasn’t entirely true. It would have to be attempted at the end, before it was obvious to the soldiers that Francis and Rayla would lose. He continued. “Now, any soldier who doesn’t want to face a losing battle, can leave. I have no intentions to aimlessly hurt people.”

“You’re surrounded!” Soren pointedly reminded, gripping his sword in preparation to attack.

“Great, I guess I’m forced to make sure that the first person brave enough to approach the both of us gets really, really hurt.” Francis held his sword with both of his hands, his eyeballs darting around the encircling soldiers. They were intimidated, but not completely dispirited and that had to change. “Have you ever wondered why Moonshadow elves are so fierce and efficient during battles?” He pointedly asked, but only the raindrops broke the dead silence. “Well, let me tell you, they do not fear death. In fact they say that they’re already dead. Now, you can’t kill something that’s already dead.”

“She doesn’t look dead to me.” Soren rebutted.

“Well, looks can be deceiving, can’t they? Moonshadow elves are known for their illusions, you had plenty of experience with that.” Francis jabbed and Soren frowned at the reminder.

In reality, Francis didn’t fully believe the Moonshadow elf’s notion. You had to be blind not to see that Rayla couldn’t be more alive in that moment. The elf who stood firmly in a low defensive stance, with sopping wet hood and moistened hair that stuck to the sides of her face and moved with her quickened and deep panting, was one of the most alive people there. Her senses were heightened, her jaw clenched tight, as she fiercely looked dead into the soldiers’ eyes and showed them her teeth, incinerating their confidence.

“Soren, he’s stalling for time! He’s looking around for the best course of action!” Claudia pointed out. The soldiers seemed to have lifted their spirits at the fact that Francis’s game was up and that the key was to attack quickly.

“Enough talking!” Soren shouted, using the momentum to his advantage. “All you do is waste time and delay the inevitable.” Francis almost flinched in disbelief, but not at the fact that he was found out and that they were about to attack. He caught a glimpse of someone. This was something he wasn’t expecting at all, considering Francis wasn’t sure what he would do.

“Nice one, Claudia, great deduction skills. I was wasting time.” Francis played it off coolly, as the soldiers closed in unison. “We have back up to help us out.” The soldiers held up at the sudden news, Soren including. The shock and fear was back on their faces. “Shouldn’t have wasted the offers I gave at the beginning.”

“He’s bluffing!” Claudia shouted impatiently. “They only have the princes with them! In fact try not to kill them, Soren, they can lead us to Callum and Ezran!”

“They don’t have to!” A commanding voice, remorseless in its tone came from behind them. “And he isn’t bluffing! I’m right here!” Callum appeared from underneath the tree’s shadow, his facial features dangerously taut and darkly tensed.

“Callum! You’re safe!” Claudia exclaimed, relieved. Callum’s unsettlingly unfeeling eyes were peering from behind his lowered face, looking sourly in Claudia’s direction.

“That’s your backup?” Soren laughed Francis’s claims off and it looked like he managed to put the soldiers at ease… but only for a moment.

“Ah well, don’t you know he’s a mage?” Francis pointed out calmly much to the chagrin of the now noticeably tensed soldiers.

“Nice try, but Callum is not a mage. Claudia told me that he broke the Primal Stone and without it he can’t do Primal Magic.” Soren said smugly, thinking that he caught Francis out.

“Who says he was going to use Primal magic, eh?” Francis insinuated. It was a total bluff obviously and he doubted that Soren would believe it, since he only saw Callum as someone who was terrible at everything. As long as Francis’s bluff had an effect on the soldiers, that was all that mattered. However even his own bluff had an effect on himself and Rayla.

“What am _I_ doing?” Francis heard Callum repeat Claudia’s question with a scowl, as he held up the tome of Dark Magic. “Your kind of magic.” Francis could feel Rayla turn rigid at Callum’s words, as she probably looked revolted at what he was about to do.

“That’s a new one for me,” Francis muttered under his breath, more to himself. “Never have I had my bluffs be so accurate, that they predicted the future. I’m not sure if I like this clairvoyance… maybe I should stop talking.” Francis held his breath and waited for what would happen next.

* * *

“You don’t want to do this, Callum,” Claudia pleaded, trying to reach out and discourage him. “It’s really dangerous unless someone shows you how.”

_You’re right, I don’t want to do this, but I want to help, even if it’s at the expense of my morals… I don’t have any other choice,_ went through Callum’s head. He held the little green worm up in his hands, which he got from Claudia’s bag where she also left the tome and responded far more coldly. “You already did, when you tried to chain my illusion.”

Callum squeezed his eyes along with his hand and felt such immense dark energy enter through his hands. He could acutely feel everything: the cold wind wobble at his scarf, the icy cold raindrops on his hair, where everyone was standing, how the time passed by slowly, his rampaging heart in his chest…

It wasn’t empowering, it felt chaotic, uncontrollable and unexplainable – it was a little scary. Yet he felt like he could do anything with this power he attained, as he chanted the spell in a language his ears and heart couldn’t understand. It was unnatural and sinister. It sounded garbled and incomprehensible… and yet despite not understanding it fully somehow in his head he knew what he was saying.

_Slithering steel unbind._

He directed the spell out of his hands and opened his eyes. His vision was totally in purple, but he could discern the toxic green light that left his hand and entered the chains on the dragon, turning them into snakes.

Callum suddenly felt that his senses were rapidly departing him, as the dark power that he was imbued with quickly exhausted, sapping out of him more than what they initially gave him. As a last will, he impulsively ordered the snakes to chain some of the surrounding soldiers, the ones who dared to try and hurt Rayla… and Francis.

His vision became dimmed and Callum slowly felt everything around him shut-off into nothingness. The sounds were muted and the colours were dulled, he could barely register any sensations. Only the dreary emptiness remained and the harrowing darkness congregated in his depleted body, in his empty soul. Not the powerful darkness, but a useless leeching mark of darkness.

Callum eventually lost track of everything: the passage of time, the chained soldiers, the fleeting soldiers, the dragon that rose angered at its perpetrator. He fell… the time still felt slow for him so it felt like he was falling down forever, but his knees abruptly reminded him of the hard ground beneath him, before his front plastered to the wet soil.

The last thing he remembered seeing was Claudia’s horrified face looking down at him, just like he did when he was on Phoe-Phoe only her eyes were normal. It was his eyes that were shining purple and then turned black. Everything went completely dark and Callum was too out of it to react and feel the turmoil going on inside him at reversed positions he just witnessed… but eventually he was able to feel four fingers grab his hand and two shoulders carry him.

* * *

“Callum!” Francis called out at the top of his voice, as he saw him stagger. He sheathed his sword and ran towards him, completely ignoring that he would have to go through a couple of soldiers to reach him. He was rudely caught by his cape, as Soren flung him back at Rayla, who had the reflexes and the strength to catch and hold him.

Soren held the blade up at them, forcing them to move away from the dragon. “Congratulations! An elf and a traitor did everything they could to save a monster who torched an entire village full of innocent people,” he declared victoriously, his thumb pointing behind him at the still presumed dead dragon. “But it didn’t even matter – you freed a dead dragon.” Soren’s complacency and pompous demeanour evaporated in an instant, as soon as he heard an angry growl behind him.

“Is that so?” Francis snarked, as the dragon got to its feet. “Run!” He shouted and the soldiers didn’t need to be told twice, as those who weren’t chained, scrambled and dissipated, abandoning Soren.

* * *

_Hide and seek was a really bad idea!_ Ezran’s suspicions were triggered by a plea he heard in his head, a cry for help.

_Help me! Please!_

He saw the scary scenes in his head and he wasted no time in making his way to where the rest of the team already were.

Ezran was getting close. He whizzed past some of the soldiers who ran in the opposite direction to him, completely ignoring him and Bait. The fact that Ezran saw the fleeing soldiers meant that the vision from the highly intense anxiety he was shared with, shortly before he began to run, were very real.

He could suddenly see the image of Callum struggling to get up as he was surrounded by Francis and Rayla. Ezran had the same fear transmitted to him. Was he hurt? How badly? Ezran saw the infuriated Pyrrah towering over Soren, who prepared to face her, alone, his hands gripping the sword tightly.

Ezran placed two fingers to the side of his temple and reassuringly told. _I will always protect you! I will guide you and I will be with you always, no matter how far apart we are! Don’t get any closer. I’m coming!_

Despite the building fatigue Ezran only quickened his pace.

* * *

The fact that three people managed to overcome a group of over two dozen soldiers was an incredible feat; the fact that none of the trio gave themselves up or got killed was a miracle. Yet Francis’s and Rayla’s minds completely ignored their feat, as they ran over to Callum, who couldn’t get up. He grunted, as though as he survived a fall from the Katolis towers.

Rayla and Francis lifted and carried him by his shoulders. Walking for Callum was too difficult, as his glassy eyes were half shut. Rayla was certain she would make her displeasure known to Callum for using such a vile method to help them. She almost wished he stayed away. However right now they needed to focus on getting as far away as possible. Miraculously they freed the dragon and were almost out… but Francis suddenly stopped walking.

“Francis, we need to get out of here! What are you doing?” Rayla looked at him, dumbfounded. All she saw was Francis’s eyes like pointy needles pensively piercing the distance, his body half turned back towards the clearing.

_Why do humans have to be so dumb?_ Rayla grumbled to herself.

Francis looked at her. “Get Callum to safety!” He was almost ordering her. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Where are you going?! You’re not going back there alone, there’s an angry dragon and loads of guards!” Rayla shouted, staggered by the direction Francis was running in. “Together!” She reiterated.

“No, you are staying with Callum! Only one of us is needed to be with him!” Francis said unwaveringly to her. “But Soren needs someone, if he is to make it out alive… and that someone is going to be me; I’m his best chance. He may be a dummy, but he doesn’t deserve to die.” Without another word Francis spun and went back to the clearing, ignoring the scowl in Rayla’s sigh.

* * *

When Francis made it to the clearing, he saw Soren cut one of the numerous horns off of the dragon’s right side. This was by far one of the worst things he could have done. It made the dragon unbelievably wrathful and any kind of mercy definitely wouldn’t be on her mind right now. In these situations, one had to maintain distance.

“Soren get further back!” Francis instructed.

“I do not need your help!” Soren refused to listen. “I will take the dragon down, just like the greats used to. I will achieve my dream! And then I will deal with you!” Soren prepared for another charge, at the dragon’s front. Being from the side allowed Francis to spot how Pyrrah’s was preparing to blindside Soren, as the tail curled in circles on itself.

“Soren! The tail! Watch out!” Francis tried to warn.

Pyrrah turned and hit Soren with its tail like a whip, making him fly backwards. He bounced off the ground from the tail’s force, until his spine shattered against the rock and Soren’s body fell limp on the ground.

“Pyrrah, enough!” Francis put his hands up, getting in between Soren and the approaching Pyrrah. “He doesn’t deserve to die! It may be hard for you to believe but I’ve known Soren for a long time. He has good intentions and wants to do good by everyone!”

Pyrrah snorted sceptically at him.

“I know that he hurt you, but he was only trying to protect the town.” Francis reasoned… with a dragon. Which turn did his life take to have it come down to this? “Please show strength, Pyrrah, and be merciful.”

The dragon roared at Francis, indicating that she wasn’t being swayed.

“Pyrrah, please, don’t make me do this!” Francis pleaded, but the dragon didn’t back off. Francis made an apology to Rayla in his head for what he was about to do… he really hoped she wasn’t seeing this. “Soren is a good person and I will protect him!” Francis declared and unsheathed his sword, standing sideways with his feet just wider the width of his shoulders. He bent his knees and lowered himself, leaning slightly forward, into a defensive Earthblood elf stance and let out the corresponding battle cry to calm his nerves down. The Earthblood elves referred to it as the Last Stand stance and was part of their attrition strategy.

To fight a dragon out in the open was one of the worst possibilities ever and as a result Francis was facing even steeper odds than earlier. Pyrrah jerked her head backwards in surprise, perhaps expecting Francis to step aside and flee.

“When I said that I travelled Eastern Xadia, I really meant it.” Francis saw an opportunity to perhaps psych the dragon out. He wasn’t confident at all about both of them making out unscathed. “I’ve studied many things, combat amongst them, but I also met a few interesting personas. Nearly a month ago, I crossed paths with Sol Regem…” Francis locked eyes with Pyrrah, who stiffened at the name. “And look at me, I survived.” Neither of them moved at first and there was a moment of uncertainty about whether Francis succeeded or if they would have to clash. Their tense pause was interrupted by a way too familiar sound of a dragon’s whimper.

“Zym!” Francis was shocked to hear Ezran’s voice.

“What are you two doing here?! Get out of here!” Francis ordered. Pyrrah turned to look at the pair of youthful princes. “That’s the Dragon Prince!” Francis seized his opportunity. “The egg was never destroyed.”

Pyrrah roared at the princes, perhaps in disbelief. However she still sniffed Zym and her expression changed, growling in astonishment. She immediately flapped her wings and took off into the sky, with the greatest matter of urgency. Relief washed over the faces of Zym, Ezran and Francis, one greater than the next… but not for long.

“The little dragon is coming with me.” Francis turned to the voice of Claudia. He really just couldn’t catch a break, after solving one problem and avoiding one disaster he had to face another one immediately after. He lifted his sword when he saw Claudia chanting a spell. Her snake bracelet on her wrist slowly crawled towards her palm that was directed at Ezran and Zym.

“Claudia step aside, I won’t hesitate to hit you!” Francis warned. “Ezran, run! She can’t catch both of us!” Claudia seemed to have been ignoring Francis’s warnings, already far too deep in her spell… yet one voice managed to stop her.

“Claudia…” Soren’s weak voice reached out to her. “Help me… I can’t move.” With Francis’s blade still pointing at her, Claudia hovered her head between Soren and Ezran… but she was quick to make her mind up.

“Soren!” She ran over and kneeled beside him.

Francis wasn’t keen on being held back any longer. “Come on!” He hurriedly helped Ezran up, sheathing his sword at the same time. “Let’s quickly get out of here and get to Callum and Rayla before the world decides to collapse in on us just for fun!” Francis grumbled sarcastically, but he knew very well that this was far from over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, Francis let a little bit of his inner John Wick out, didn't he? There will be more to come from him. I've had great fun building Callum up over the past few chapters with the whole darkness motif and it felt really good to overlap it with how it might feel like to perform Dark Magic. There will be a little more of the darkness in the next chapter. Glancing a little into Soren's mind was also kind of refreshing for me.  
> As always, thank you for reading this far and I hope you are still enjoying it. I appreciate and I'm grateful of any kind of support you show or already have shown by leaving a kudos or commenting. In all honesty, I didn't expect people would like this as much, because I thought it wouldn't be as compelling or interesting for others if the story wasn't as original. I also don't know how this compares in general and stats-wise to other stories, since I'm only really aware of the more popular ones (by the way there has and will be a few fun nods to them here and there). Nevertheless, I genuinely feel great and a little touched for the kind words you said in the comments and the kudos that people left on this story. This hobby felt liberating but it also feels equally great that others like the writing I've done. Thank you.


	17. A Narrative of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The encounter at the forest's clearing left everyone in a state of shock. Team Zym were forced to return to the cave, licking their wounds and fearing over Callum's life, while Claudia was unable to accept the new grim reality her brother now faced.

When life challenged you, sometimes the worst part wasn’t the challenge itself, but the fallout that followed. It was the following seconds, minutes, hours and days that kept you reminding of the choices you made that lead you to this moment. It wasn’t a new feeling for Francis – he was a sophisticated individual, made plenty of mistakes and close calls and tackled many things with differing approaches. This time however it hurt more than usual. They succeeded, but just as Francis feared the team wouldn’t go out unscathed; Callum got hurt.

Looking at the positives, at least it was certain that no one would follow them, since Claudia chose to stay with Soren… but this was only a small consolation. Nobody would be able to tell, but Francis was angry. He was angry with himself, that him and Rayla failed to free the dragon on their own. In fact they owed Callum in that regard, but the manner in which Callum was forced to save them was what hurt Francis the most.

Their misjudgement was so severe and Callum’s desperation was so unbelievably poignant, that Callum thought it necessary to use Dark Magic, albeit he was unsuccessfully tempted by it previously. In Francis’s bid to keep the team together, he was ready to give himself up so that his friends could keep going with the world’s best chance at redemption. Callum went a step further, he was ready to use Dark Magic to save them… and despite knowing the potential dangers that followed he gladly paid the price for dabbling in it.

Francis had no idea how to deal with Dark Magic, the books he read were all about treating wounds and injuries of the recipient of Dark Magic, which wasn’t unexpected. It was convenient and overall not surprising that the books never described any sort of treatment for someone who performed Dark Magic. Francis had zero clue how to help Callum and there was no one around who knew… actually worse, Claudia could help – their enemy.

It was the worst feeling when there was no one reliable to help, let alone when Francis had no answer to a problem… and this problem was extremely dire. These sort of situations and reflections for Francis always led to the same question: could he have done better? It always led to the same answer: always.

Callum’s state worsened almost by the second. His skin was pale white, paler than Rayla’s hair and purple circles formed around his eyes. Rayla and Francis had to carry him, as every now and then he would fall on his knees too weak to keep going. They were so close to Eastern Xadia, but the fact that Callum was dragging his feet barely able to lift them, meant that there was no way they would be crossing the border. Beyond his groans, Callum was in a half delirious state and looked like he would fall asleep in a few minutes. Every now and then he mumbled and sometimes he made coherent sentences.

“Am I a good person?” Callum groaned weakly, without looking up.

“Of course, Callum.” Francis replied, although he wasn’t particularly reassured with how Callum was speaking.

“Why would you ask that?” Rayla inquired.

“I don’t feel too good,”Callum confessed.

“That’s your fault for using Dark Magic.” Rayla said bluntly.

Francis shot her a glare, but she was looking ahead and it went unnoticed. What had been going unnoticed for Francis was the burning pain caused from the constant rubbing on his left arm, as well as his slowly seeping right palm.

“Francis!” Ezran remarked in shock. “Your palm.”

“It’s fine, it’s nothing serious.” Francis replied quickly, since it was a relatively minor cut.

“Francis,” it was Rayla this time. “The burn…”

“Forget about it!” Francis cut her off, warning off any further inquiries. Only Callum’s health was at the forefront of his mind. Her ears fell from that response as her head tugged downwards looking dead ahead.

With each pause Francis retreated from his routine carrying into his continuously processing mind. Each silence felt unbearably loud and slow, it felt like Francis could hear everything, even through the rain.

“You’re right, saving people is always worth it, even if it looks kind of bad…” Callum mumbled, his head slackened forward. Rayla narrowed her eyes at Francis, she easily guessed that Callum was talking to him, but her disapproving stare was short lived. “At least Rayla is alive…” That caught her off guard, as her now wide eyes switched to Callum. He was smiling and his expression was soft and blissful.

Francis continued to chafe inwardly, sweating over what to do next… but that might have just been the trickling raindrops, he wasn’t paying much attention to the forces of nature. However he was slowly being brought out of his deliberations as he began to distinctly hear three separate heartbeats.

 _Ba-bum. Ba-bum. Ba-bum,_ was Ezran’s.

 _Da-dum. Da-dum. Da-dum_ , was Rayla’s

 _Thum-Thump. Thum-Thump. Thum. Thump… Thum… Thump…_ was Callum’s.

His heart and mind began to prickle him… whether Francis was actually hearing heartbeats or only imagining it, did not concern him one bit. It felt like hours trickled by in between each single pause Callum made before constructing a new sentence and Francis was generally afraid he would fall asleep. For how long? Days? Or would it be forever?

“Callum, stay awake!” Francis told him sharply, as he lowered his head so that he could see Callum’s eyes, from underneath his soaking hair.

“I am…” he barely uttered after a significant delay.

“Your eyes are closed,” Francis said a little more calmly this time. “I need them open.”

Callum did so very slowly. It was first only one of his eyes but then the next opened too… only half-way though. It was hard to tell from his unfocused gaze, what exactly he was looking at, though Francis had a nagging suspicion that Callum’s eyes looked perplexed. “You all have such beautiful eyes…” Callum announced and then for the first time looked up and turned his head. “Especially you Rayla, with your piercing violet…”

Judging by Rayla’s abashed stare, she was more than a little taken aback. Callum was certainly bolder when he was delirious, but nothing about this otherwise cute interaction was reassuring. Not only Callum made zero sense of his words, but also it was frightening to see how quickly life was sapping out of him. He looked as pale as a corpse now and the purple lines around his eyes deepened and spread to cover his sockets. Depleted of energy, little remained of the usually awkward but active Callum… he looked like an empty husk.

Francis lightly tapped Callum a couple of times across the face to keep him awake. “Don’t you dare say things like that!” He meant it more in the manner Callum was saying them. There was nothing wrong in his statement, Rayla did have memorable and beautiful eyes. He just didn’t like the tone in which Callum said it – it sounded too much like a departing comment. Francis’s mind ran tirelessly to work out the next course of action, after saving three lives today he had to save one more… and it seemed to be the most challenging of all.

* * *

Anger. Everything made Claudia angry and infuriated, as she and a couple of soldiers carried Soren to the hospital. She was irritated at how slow it took them to get to the doctor. She was angry at herself. Her healing spell she used earlier failed… worse, it did absolutely nothing. She was infuriated with how calmly Soren was taking everything, he even joked around.

“Can you feel this?” Claudia asked.

“No. What are you doing?”

“I’m pinching your hand.”

“Well, that’s just rude.” Soren smiled.

She was slowly ignited with ire that she had to wait outside and at how long it took for the doctor to inspect her brother and get back to her. She began to burn brightly at what the doctor told her.

“He is not going to get better. He won’t die, but he will never walk again. I haven’t told him yet…”

“Don’t!” Claudia impulsively cut her off and then replied through her teeth. “He should hear it from me.”

The doctor left her alone, she was having a busy day, still healing those that survived the night attack as well as the new beaten up batch of soldiers. How was all of this even possible? How could have all of this happened to them, the two most capable and strongest people in their respective fields? Nothing bad was supposed to ever happen to them, nothing was supposed to hurt or stop them! She had to choose between the mission, her father’s words, and family, she wasn’t supposed to go through anything like that again… even if, again, there was no real choice in the end. Claudia was left alone and she took the time to cool down and put on a face for Soren.

* * *

“Hey, Sor-Sor,” Soren heard Claudia’s voice and he opened his eyes. She had a hand on his shoulder that he only noticed when he saw it. There was a smile on her face that was clearly forced, he knew her too well. There was no point in hiding it; it was obvious from the start for Soren. He was paralysed, chained back to a bed again. It was a feeling from his childhood he thought he would forget… and yet he found himself back there again: weak, feeble and useless. He thought he would forever get himself rid of this feeling if he trained hard every day and he did that… he did only that… and after everything it led him back to being bedridden. Now what did any of his training mean? He maybe ignored those words early, but now they properly hit: who was he when the muscles and sword fighting were gone?

“All the people in the town are talking about you,” Claudia continued with a forced expression. “About how you faced the dragon and saved the town. Everyone’s calling you a hero.”

“Saved them from a problem I caused,” Soren lamented. “Is that what heroes do?” Soren shut his eyes. Hero… there was one man who was constantly being called that and after today’s actions Soren was left confused. Why would Francis come back for him? He was supposed to be a self-serving traitor who was dishonourable in abandoning his duty. Why in the name of everything would he risk his own life to protect him from a dragon he freed? Why would he even try to save and help him after everything they said and did to each other?

After trying to beat Francis and eclipse his name, his fame, for most of his life, it was Francis in the end that had to stand up for him when Soren went a step too far. All this time Soren chased after this grand milestone of overcoming his rival, when Francis hadn’t ever considered it more than an on field struggle. He even called him a good person despite what he nearly did back at the Nexus and what he actually did last night. It couldn’t have been as simple as not letting people die, could it? Was that what heroes did?

“The doctor did some tests…” Claudia tried to ease in.

“I already know,” Soren told her. “I can’t move, I can’t walk and it’s not going to get any better.” He looked out of the window and saw a pair of brothers, one much older than the other, walking by and laughing loudly. “You know, it’s probably for the best. I’m glad that I can’t move anymore.”

“Soren, why would you say that?” Claudia’s voice quivered.

“Before we left, dad gave me a secret mission,” Soren began, his eyes were welling up. Claudia leaned closer in. “I was confused, because I didn’t want to do it, but… I do want dad to love me and be proud of me…”

“He is proud of you, no matter what.” Claudia wiped some of Soren’s tears away.

“Dad is so smart, so I figured that there must be a good reason…”

“Soren, what did dad ask you to do?” Claudia asked.

Soren sighed preparing to actually hear himself say those words. “To kill the princes.” Each word sounded like a hemic hatchet hacked at his heart.

“Kill them?” Claudia repeated eyes shocked out of orbit, she then scoffed. “No, that can’t be right. You must’ve misunderstood.”

Soren looked downward, his head would’ve followed his eyes too if it could. “Now I can’t do anything terrible, because I can’t do… anything.” He said gravely.

What would he do now? Who was he now? Surprisingly, after saying everything and accepting the fact that he couldn’t walk anymore made him feel oddly free. He could explore himself without expectations, without people telling him what he could and couldn’t do. He told her as such, although Claudia didn’t look particularly reassured, as she restlessly walked up and down the room, looking like there was a fuse lit inside her.

“So what are you going to do with this newfound… freedom?” She pried into it.

“I’m going to be a poet, Claudia!” Soren announced, showcasing his last ten minutes of thinking. Claudia blew out a rambunctious laugh, leaving Soren rightfully confused.

She fell silent when she finally looked at him. “You’re not actually joking.”

“I’m going to be a poet and people will come hear my poems.” Soren continued undiscouraged, as his eyes plundered into phantasies. “They will come visit me and we’ll drink some sort of… soothing tea. And then… and then, I’ll say my latest poems to them…”

“Soren, are you sure?” Claudia sighed through her hand.

“I already have my first poem. It’s a haiku,” Soren said proudly and inhaled deeply. “Dragon smash boy. Say the good words now. They light the hearts of other people.” Soren waited patiently for Claudia’s response… who was holding her head in her hands. “Do you like it? I’m inspiring, right?”

“No, Soren, no,” she exploded. “That was a terrible poem… and it’s not even a haiku. Oh… I can’t leave you like this, there has to be something!” Claudia ravaged the room looking for that something. Somehow Soren was sure even she had no idea what that something was. Objects were thrown, shattered and flipped as Claudia discombobulated the nearest shelves and cupboards.

As one would expect, all this detonation attracted a lot of attention. “You need to calm down.” The doctor told off Claudia.

“No, you all need to calm… up!” Claudia talked back. “You need to help him!”

“This is a hospital,” the doctor reminded, as she and a nurse restrained Claudia. “Miss, we’re going to have to assist you out of here.”

“He can’t be like this. He can’t even count syllables!” Claudia yelled as she was thrown out of the hospital.

This wasn’t the reaction Soren was expecting someone to make after a poem, but he thought if people had this surreal and determined outbursts after a poem, then maybe he could become a great poet.

* * *

After a gruesomely long time spent carrying Callum, they reached their camp. It was hard to tell whether Callum was freezing from the cold rain or was his body temperature generally ice cold. No matter, how much Francis tried to keep Callum awake, he still fell asleep. He inevitably had to. Ezran put Callum’s backpack to be used as a pillow and Francis and Rayla gently lowered him onto it.

“I’m so uncomfortable,” he mumbled.

“Uncomfortable with your choice to use Dark Magic perhaps?” Rayla jabbed unkindly.

“Rayla!” Ezran expressed his unhappiness.

“Knock it off!” Francis warned coldly. Rayla was left shrugging her shoulders.

“Is that any better?” Ezran moved Callum’s head.

“… so uncomfortable…” Callum just kept muttering.

“Callum?” Ezran shook him.

“Who… who are you?” Callum mumbled.

“He’s delirious.” Rayla said unhappily, crossing her arms.

“It seems to be getting worse.” Ezran pointed out.

“Why am I not surprised?” Rayla muttered sarcastically, looking away from them. “It’s like he didn’t know that he would have to pay the price for Dark Magic.”

“Enough!” Francis yelled and got up to his feet, stabbing his finger in the air around him. “You will stop this instant and instead actually help!”

“Stop what?” Rayla rose, locking horns with him, as lightning bolts jumped between their eyes, compensating for the lack of them outside the camp. “You want me to feel sorry for him doing something so atrocious, for something I had no hand in?”

“We are a team, we are all in this together.” Francis told her. “If you refuse to share in his struggles then you might as well just leave!”

“I didn’t advocate his choice of Dark Magic,” Rayla retorted. “In fact I wish with all my heart he didn’t do it.”

“Then stop with your comments and help him!” Francis reiterated.

“How? Do you even know what to do?” Rayla shot back.

“I don’t, but I know that making your derogatory comments and doing nothing will not lead us anywhere.” Francis replied.

“Guys, stop!” Ezran tried to intervene.

“Silence, Ezran!” Francis ordered him without malice and Ezran was obedient. “Not this time, this needs to be said.”

“We may be in this together, but that is not my ‘decision’ to deal with.” Rayla stated.

“Yes, it is! He did this for you,” Francis reminded her passionately. “He did this because we went back in.”

“I’m pretty sure if you didn’t tell him anything about how it’s worth saving people’s lives he wouldn’t be lying on the ground here.” Rayla rebutted viciously to Francis’s stoic face. “You went back to save Soren, unnecessarily risking the dragon turning on you! Those were your words! He said your words!” Francis’s face remained unreadable and Rayla was uncertain as to whether her bluntness stung him. In truth, despite not showing it, the thought that Francis was responsible for those words definitely didn’t escape his mind – it wasn’t a false statement.

“You’re not suggesting that Callum should’ve just sat by the side, chanced fate and be content with potentially losing us, after we replaced his two oldest friends and helped him through everything on this journey?” Francis challenged.

“Not using Dark Magic! Not at…” _his own expense,_ Rayla finished the sentence in her head, stopping herself from saying it out loud, perhaps too afraid to admit it out loud. “Not at that cost.” She tried to cover it up and she watched Francis narrow his eyes at her.

“After everything that happened for the past nearly two weeks, how do you think Callum felt?” Francis argued, in a way more calmer tone than he previously used. “His two closest people leave him, one of them hinting that they may die. No sword fighting ability, no way to solve this diplomatically, his only source of magic gone. Out of desperation to be useful and see us live, he saved us, because if Callum didn’t step in, we would’ve been captured or killed.”

“Oh, the great know-it-all and renowned strategist and tactician is telling me that he didn’t have a plan?” Rayla was still fired up and ruthless in her argument.

“My only plan was to make sure you live to fight another day.” Francis replied sternly and sincerely. “I had no idea if we would’ve made it out of this alive and how many soldiers there were exactly. Of course there was no coherent well-structured plan, only improvisation! Callum saved our lives and it needs to be appreciated! The least we can do is try to help him.”

“I won’t help him for something I had no hand in deciding. He chose this and brought this upon himself and thus will face this himself.” Rayla turned away to sit in the corner.

“And what if he returns a different person?” Francis asked. Rayla stopped half way and glared back at him, not saying anything. Perhaps it was karma for him to go there, since she already prodded him about the weight of his words. “Are you going to be singing the same tune if he dies?”

“Don’t you dare say that!” Rayla pointed her finger at him and closed the distance they had.

“Say what – the potential outcome?” Francis challenged her, but he was only met with stubborn silence. “If you are going to be of no help, then go take your grumpy self and sit somewhere away from my sight… that is until you change your mind.” Francis waved her away and Rayla did so, as she sat down, sulking in the corner, hugging her knees and resting her head atop of them.

“Francis?” Ezran gingerly beckoned and then pointed out. “Callum is unbearably warm.”

“I’m just confused…” Callum mumbled, his face twitching restlessly.

Francis kneeled down immediately, touching Callum’s forehead. He wasn’t just unbearably warm – he was burning hot! Francis dove into his backpack looking for some rags he could use. He glanced at the weather outside, the rain was dying down… they would have to use their drinking water to help Callum cool down.

Francis got down, took Callum’s jacket off and unbuttoned his sleeveless shirt and started wiping his sweat away from his face, occasionally going over with a cold wet cloth. There weren’t any more strange colours and marks on his body, which, considering how bad their situation was, was a massive plus.

This reminded him to go over his own wounds and body, but he just wasn’t concerned enough to do it thoroughly. He made sure there were no blood patches and cuts on his clothes and continued working on Callum, while rubbing aloe paste into his injuries and bandaging them at same time. Was the burn mark bigger that it had been previously?

Ezran thankfully remained by his side and was very helpful. Rayla didn’t do much other than remain grumpy, probably at everything, including herself. Maybe she was even angry at the exact same things that Francis was, only with the added caveat of Dark Magic, which also bothered Francis, but not to the same extent. Perhaps she wasn’t sure what to do with it all now: who to blame, how to vent out her anger, how to move on from that. A good first step would probably be making sure Callum came back, hopefully safe and sound. In fact making it safely through the day without anything else going wrong would be classified as great success… but fate had other plans.

“Someone’s coming.” Rayla whispered as her ears twitched before she got up.

“Why does this day just keeps getting better and better?” Francis said sarcastically to himself. “I love challenges, but this is getting annoying now.” It was one after the other, without a second to breathe.

“Who’s there?” Rayla announced. “Show yourself or I’ll introduce you to my pointy friends!” Well, the person that approached was certainly not afraid to face Rayla’s ‘pointy friends’, although her horns and ears were pointier than the things she actually referred to. Her swords were duller than Soren and that was saying something.

Too stressed out, Francis didn’t make a joke like he normally would in this situation to keep the spirits high. “Relax, Rayla,” he said calmly instead, as he put away his sword and went back to Callum. This wasn’t even a crisis coming up in the first place. “It’s only Corvus, he’s not here to fight.”

“That’s not what he did the first time.” Rayla reminded, as she eyed Corvus’s chain who, getting the hint, put the weapon on the ground.

“This isn’t the first time anymore and no rematch is taking place today, besides you’ll beat him far too easily.” Francis pointed out and for the first time today a smirk twitched on Rayla’s face. Francis continued. “Good morning, Corvus, you have frequented your sojourns with us, I see you enjoyed our disputations earlier?”

“Anything beats Soren’s irritating speech.” Corvus shrugged his head and he was allowed to approach the team.

“Considering what has been going on lately, I would rather your imminent appointments be made aware to us way more in advance, before you approach us.” Francis said earnestly. “Anyways, how can we indulge you today?”

“I’m here to serve the king,” Corvus took a knee. “King Ezran.”

Never mind, there was a crisis coming right up. Francis, knowing how insensitive it would be, held back an exasperated groan. The world really must have gotten up on the wrong foot today and decided to dish out on Francis and the team for everything they did wrong in their lives… maybe the fact he was born in the first place was somehow his fault too.

“But I’m not the king,” Ezran began innocently. “I’m just a prince. My dad is…” Ezran trailed off. That was enough for Francis to hang his head, the kid was going to figure it out. “Wait. That’s not what you’re saying! He isn’t…”

Francis looked up preparing himself to say something, to calm him and reassure him, but this was so out of the blue that he hesitated saying something immediately, saying something he might regret. He didn’t get the time to prepare, since Callum was supposed to be the one to break the news.

Before he got the chance to open his mouth, Rayla was the first one to attempt to help Ezran, as she reached out to him, but he just backed off. “No! No, no, no!”

“Ezran, it’s going to be okay,” Rayla said as her eyes welled up.

“You knew?” Ezran looked around at silent Francis and Rayla. “I’m an idiot! I should’ve figured it out. When we met you, you had two of those assassiny ribbony things and one of them came off that night!”

Rayla kneeled down to be eye-level with Ezran, holding onto her wrist. “That’s right,” she confirmed, avoiding eye contact with him, to the point that she switched between shutting her eyes and looking down at the ground. “That must have been when he fell.”

“Fell?” Ezran questioned.

“Yes,” Rayla wiped away some of the tears away, but that wouldn’t help.

“‘Fell’?” Ezran repeated again. “He didn’t fall, Rayla. He didn’t trip and land on the ground. He got killed!”

That eloquence perhaps put a knife into Francis’s chest. It certainly did into Rayla’s as she flinched and more tears escaped her eyes. Ezran looked at Francis who still remained silent all this time. The look in Ezran’s eyes sent chills down Francis’s spine. No eight year old kid should have ever been able to pull off that kind of gaze, so full of anger, grief and disappointment… such a mature and scarily adult reaction.

Francis knew exactly what question was on Ezran’s mind, judging by the way his eyes flicked down to Callum and back up at Francis. Francis nodded as he tellingly looked down at Callum. When Francis’s eyes went back up to Ezran’s there was this determined and uncomfortable look in them. He read it and originally the thought scared him, but eventually he was able to let it go. Francis felt guilty that Ezran had to get told the news in such a horrible way and most of all he felt horrible even at the thought of trying to treat him like a kid in this situation. Ezran deserved to deal with this on his own for a bit.

“I’m going for a walk.” Ezran announced with clenched fists.

“I can’t let you go alone.” Corvus put his hands up.

“Give him space, Corvus.” Francis supported Ezran.

“I can deal with this myself, Francis.” Ezran said, not defiantly and Francis respected his wishes. “If I’m king, then you have to let me go.”

Corvus obeyed and stepped aside, but there was one more obstacle in the way. “You’re not my king,” Rayla tried. “But you are my friend and I’m coming with you.”

“Rayla, please,” Ezran sighed. “Just let me go be alone, please.” Rayla didn’t persist and Ezran, for the first time wiping at his eyes, went away.

Zym who was mostly asleep all this time, suddenly woke up and tried to follow him, but Bait held him back by his tail, leaving the two of them whimpering. That about summed up how awfully, the day had been going, as Francis’s arm began to burn again, still not dulling despite the water and paste. A growing headache amassed for Francis as he searched for a way to sort out this mess, remaining stoic throughout.

* * *

Dark. Darker. Total darkness. Cancerous, viscous and pulsating. Callum wanted to get up, if only he would stop slipping, falling forever. He was so uncomfortable. Why was he so uncomfortable?!  
Callum’s eyes shot open. What felt like pale white spotlight shone on him in an otherwise dark and empty... whatever this was, space? He was lying on something uncomfortable, but not the stone cold floor. It was something rough, jagged and... just plain small and numerous. He lifted his head, it was a giant pile of keys.

Deep inside the pile, something glowed… something red-purplish. Callum reached deep into the pile and grabbed something... something resembling a cube. He pulled it out – it was the Key of Aaravos... and one of the sides glowed. Callum was for a moment excited that he was a mage, but only for a fleeting moment. As he turned he saw the rune that was glowing – two snakes coiling in on each other to form an eye at the top.  
“No!” Callum exclaimed and angrily threw the Key away in what seemed like a random direction... just as long as it was as far away as possible. But someone caught it, without looking, it must be added. The cloaked and hooded figure stood with his back to Callum.

“Who are you?” Callum called out to the ominous figure, but he didn’t reply. Callum got up from the pile of keys and slowly approached the figure. “Who are you?” Callum repeated the question. It again didn’t reply. Callum was now right behind him. “Who... who are you?” Callum stammered. Maybe the figure was a hallucination and he was just talking to himself. Well, yet again the figure didn’t speak, but this time he turned to face him. Callum almost wished he didn’t, as the figure removed his cloak to reveal its identity. It was Callum, he was quite literally talking to himself all this time.  
“Hello, Callum.” The thing sounded and looked exactly like him. Callum put his hand up in a defensive stance, one he saw Francis and Rayla do sometimes when they did hand to hand combat. “Do not be frightened.”

“I’m not,” Callum said. “I’m just…”

“Confused,” they both said at the same time, before cloaked Callum continued. “Of course you are – you tried Dark Magic for the first time. No one expects that to be easy.”

“But that’s the thing,” Callum disagreed. “It was easy… too easy, even though I know it’s wrong.”

“Is it really so wrong?” Cloaked Callum tested.

“Yes.”

“Is it really though?”

“Yes!”

“Why?” Cloaked Callum looked at him with a challenging and conceited smile. “If you know that it’s so wrong, why did you do it?”

“I wanted to save them!” Callum replied without a moment of hesitation… he had no other choice.

“Her,” Cloaked Callum pointed out. “You were afraid she would die, you didn’t consider that Francis could die even once.”

“He promised to come back!” Callum defended.

“He promised that she would return, he mentioned nothing about himself,” Cloaked Callum calmly said. “If Rayla didn’t hint about dying then you wouldn’t have done anything.”

“You don’t know that!” Callum shouted back at him.

“Callum, look at me,” Cloaked Callum said. “You’re looking at yourself, I know you. I’m from the future, I’m your destiny and you need to accept that.”

“I can’t accept that destiny,” Callum said rather unconvincingly.

“Why?”

“Because it’s wrong.”

“Was it really so wrong to save your friends at the expense of one small worm?” Cloaked Callum challenged further. “Didn’t Francis say that it’s always worth saving people and that to achieve the best outcome we sometimes have to do terrible things?”

“He also said not at the expense of others!” Callum said firmly.

“But that’s Francis… what about you? Was the choice you made not worth it?” Cloaked Callum stared at him waiting for a reaction, but Callum remained pensively silent. If there was another way, if he had a choice he would jump at that opportunity instantly. “You’re human, humans weren’t born with an Arcanum to do Primal Magic, but you were born to do magic. The kind of magic that humans can do.” Cloaked Callum waved the Key at Callum with the Dark Magic rune still lit up.

“If you are my future and you’re a Dark Mage, then why are you here trying to convince me to use Dark Magic?” Callum asked him… his cloaked version narrowed his eyes at him and didn’t reply. Was his destiny not set in stone or was his cloaked version lying?

“Callum, you can have unlimited power,” the Dark Mage continued as though Callum didn’t just say anything. “You can adapt any of the spells under any Primal and magnify it. You can choose what to do with that power, who to save and what little bug gets to bite the dust! You can make a real difference in the world! You just need to accept it, your destiny is already written.” The Dark Mage held out the Key to Callum.

If he could make a difference, then he wouldn’t be so useless anymore. Callum’s eyes dilated as his hands slowly reached out to the Key, its sides were all now the one rune.

_Do you understand other sources of magic then? What you’re doing by taking something’s life? How you affect the world around you?_

“Why does that matter?” The Dark Mage replied, as he smiled at the fact that Callum’s hand was etching closer and closer to the Key. “You can do magic, why pay attention to the process when the outcome is the most crucial aspect of everything in our life?”

“Callum!” Callum’s hand shot away from the Key and he jerked his head, startled by the sudden and unmistakeable voice of his step-father. He was sitting… no, chained to his throne onlooking from the side. He spoke passionately. “You are free. Free from both the past and the future. Nothing is written in stone; fate is a lie. You are free!”

“Look inside yourself, Callum!” The Dark Mage demanded the attention back to him.

Callum did what he was suggested, closing his eyes as well. Different voices flooded him all at once so very loudly that he thought everyone could hear them but his father and The Dark Mage remained unmoved.

 _I was forced to be and do things I never wanted,_ Francis’s voice echoed above them all, confident and unwavering. _Life is the most precious thing anyone has. Nothing is worth the same as someone’s life._ Suddenly, Francis’s voice momentarily sounded more real and present. _Callum, can you hear me?_ But then it went back to being an echo, only this time it was warm and comforting.

_You’re so much more than just a mage! Your resilience makes us want to better ourselves and try harder. Me, Rayla and Ezran are all here because we love you._

Callum remembered Rayla’s hug, the relief that he could feel coursing through her warm body when she realised that he was alive and fine. Her heart shaped face so endearing, especially when she blushed. He remembered her kind, soft and mesmerising violet eyes, so brave and daring, as her brilliant white hair blew in the wind. He recognised how much he wanted to be strong just like her and how her big heart was nothing short of admirable. That giggle she sometimes had when she was making fun of him was adorable and sent a strange warm feeling in his chest… and then all of that gone, turned into cold nothing, lost as soon as Callum thought about their reactions if he chose the destiny he was offered. All of their hard work over the past two weeks – thrown away. Their aim, the gesture – tainted. He couldn’t help but feel that they would all turn away. Rayla would never forgive him and even if Francis said he would understand, would he really accept it? Was there really no better way?

_Magic isn’t a shortcut! Dark Magic is taxing and we don’t know how far it corrupts._

“This is your destiny. You can’t deny it.” Callum heard his darker version trying to impatiently persuade him.

Callum opened his eyes. His hand was so close to grabbing that Key as he saw himself standing opposite, alone, grey and withered… and those black and hollow eyes sent chills down Callum’s back.

“No! I get to choose who I want to be,” Callum shot back his hand. “You are so empty and alone and you understand nothing about magic! You have not grown, in fact in taking shortcuts, you learned nothing and you have regressed!”

“Your destiny is already written!” The Dark Mage persisted, but it felt much weaker. He looked much smaller now and not as real.

“Destiny is a book you write yourself!” Callum proclaimed adamantly.

He failed to recognise the figure before him anymore, it was such a frail and broken version of himself so far away from who he actually was. It dropped its hand, dropping the Key with it, as it went down a burning hole that formed at his feet. The figure that used to be him cracked and flashed purple as it fell apart into a pile of ashes on the ground. Callum felt wind for the first time, it felt it disperse the ashes into the darkness that was pushed further back.

“That was horrifying,” Callum heavily gulped some air into him, realising he was holding his breath all this time.

“It’s your dream, kid.” Harrow told him and then pointedly disappeared.

* * *

Francis arched over Callum, rubbing away the sweat from his forehead with one hand and holding his medical book with the other, hoping to find a lead, even the smallest one somewhere. What was annoying was that everything was set out to distract him from thinking. Rayla inched closer to sit by Callum, still remaining closed and torn and fidgeting with her swords. Corvus couldn’t stop walking up and down. He was restless because he thought that King Ezran was missing, which was a viable concern, but Francis had faith that the kid would be fine, despite not being fully comfortable with the idea of letting him go.

Thankfully Rayla, sensing Francis’s irritation, dealt with Corvus and correctly pointed out that he was a tracker and that he should be able to find him. He gave them his word to bring Ezran back safely and immediately ran away.

“Oooh, I have his word.” Rayla sarcastically remarked.

However there was one more thing – his left arm. The burning sensation in it just wouldn’t go away and it was driving him mad. Maybe he should have gotten even more water on that and rub some more healing balm into it, because it made it super difficult to concentrate. Francis went through the backpack… again… then again… he couldn’t find any of them. He was out of aloe paste, spent the last huge chunk of it on Pyrrah and their water supplies were running low.

“What are you thinking about right now?” Rayla suddenly snapped him out of his stupor.

“You’re not even looking at me.” Francis pointed out ruefully.

“Don’t need to look, to know that you got your thinking face on and that you stood perfectly still for several seconds over that backpack.” Rayla replied, demonstratively not looking.

“We’re out of water.” Francis said gravely.

“I don’t remember seeing any lakes when we got here.” Rayla replied, concern spreading to her face. They still had some Moonberry juice, but they absolutely needed clean water.

“Here’s the thing, there has to be,” Francis insisted waving his hands around and holding back a hissing noise as a result. “If there’s a bay nearby, there has to be a river that flows into it.” Francis pinched the bridge of his nose and scratched his head.

“Francis, your…” but Rayla was cut off.

“We’re in a mountain!” Francis jumped at the moment of eureka.

“And how does that help?” Rayla asked.

“Rivers move down with gravity, meaning that most sources start high up, like at the top of a mountain,” Francis explained, already handing the cloth and the rag to Rayla. “And it’s going to be fresh and clean meaning I won’t have to use the leaves.”

“What leaves?” Rayla stood there very confused, but Francis was already on his way to the cliff face.

“I’m going up this mountain, hopefully there’s a stream up there,” he pronounced decisively.

“Woah, what about your han…”

“I need you to stay here and keep an eye out on Callum.” Francis cut her off again.

“Wait, hold on a second,” Rayla grabbed hold of his shoulder.

“We don’t have a second to wait!” Francis said earnestly and a little more fired up. “I’m going to be fine.”

“Are you sure?” Rayla asked.

“Have you forgotten how headstrong I am?” Francis reminded.

“You don’t have to do this,” Rayla reasoned.

“I don’t, but I will anyway.” Francis stated. He cared so much about Callum that the choice to him was obvious.

“The climb looks rather steep to me.” Rayla mused, trying to discourage him.

“I like my odds.” Francis replied.

“Francis, why risk your life like this?” Rayla questioned, groaning in frustration.

“Because it needs to be done.” Francis stated.

“Aren’t you afraid of heights?”

“Unnerved by them, yes.” Francis corrected her.

“And your Dark Magic burn mark looks nasty.” Rayla pointed out how the purple mark was covering nearly his entire forearm.

Francis however remained closed on the reality of the subject. “Key word: looks… and it’s probably nothing.”

“And you’re still going to go up the mountain, despite the very obvious limitations.” Rayla said ruefully.

“Wouldn’t be me if I didn’t.” Francis chuckled. “Look, you’re not going to convince me otherwise, I’m still making the final decision here. This isn’t about me; it doesn’t matter what problems I have. Callum needs help more than anything else and in order to help settle his fever we need water. The longer we talk, the more time he’ll spend not getting it.”

Rayla seemed to have laid the issue to rest, but just before he went, Francis came back to Callum and kneeled beside him. “I’m just going to go to the top and back down, nice and easy. I’m going to be back soon, I promise.” Francis told him, but Callum remained silent. Francis grabbed his hand, in retrospect he should have done this earlier. “Callum, can you hear me?” Francis’s voice was bright with hope. “Squeeze my hand if you can,” but his hand didn’t budge. It was worth a try. Francis rose back up and returned to the task he set himself out to do, but Rayla’s hand held him back once again.

“I’ll go up.” Rayla insisted.

“Rayla, you’re out of line, enough arguing with me!” Francis said firmly. “You’re staying here in case something happens. I trust you to protect Callum and Zym.”

“And how are you planning to climb this?” Rayla asked.

“Using these,” Francis held his hands up and pointedly wiggled his fingers at her. “You see humans have better grip potential, since we have an extra digit which gives us a larger surface area to grab onto.”

“Dumb humans,” Rayla sighed and rolled her eyes, as a smile evaded her face. “Take my blades, at least.” Francis frowned at the suggestion. “Okay, just one.” She compromised.

Francis thought for a second. “Fine, if you insist,” he said as he received the blade.

“Just be careful not to lose that extra digit.” Rayla humoured.

Francis elegantly rotated her blade into a pick and fixed it at his hip. “I won’t.” He reassured as he began the ascend.

“Don’t you dare die!” Rayla shouted up to him.

“Wasn’t in the schedule today!” Francis shouted back light-heartedly.

Rayla stared concerningly after him, as the only thing that was left visible of Francis was his shaking cape. She was now alone, as she sighed heavily. She immediately went over to stand beside Callum.

“Am I be needing a boat?” She heard him barely whisper.

* * *

“You am! For yer voyage into yer own heart and mind!” Captain Villads replied and Callum who for an unknown amount of time was walking in one direction against the thrashing winds, suddenly found himself on the Ruthless totally surrounded by an ocean.

“Let’s hope the weather be nice there!” Callum mused, but it was wishful thinking.

The ocean was restless, beating ruthlessly against the ship, as the wind threatened to throw Callum overboard. The lightning struck one after the other as thunder nearly deafened Callum. The rain splattered down heavily, icy cold and unpleasantly jagged.

Despite all of the brutalities of the weather, Captain Villads was laughing maniacally. “Hoist the mainsail!” He told Callum.

“What? I don’t know how to host any sails.” Callum replied with panic and confusion in his eyes.

“It’s yer journey, you be the sail and I’ll hoist ye!” Captain Villads shouted and suddenly Callum found that both of his hands were tied. Next thing, Callum was being propelled into the air and he thought that his hands would be torn off, but strangely enough, he was the sail… an actual sail… full length, size and everything… what even was this fever dream? Many questions rightfully arose in Callum’s brain.

“Find the wind, boy!” Captain Villads shouted from below. “Be like the wing!”

Not knowing what else to do, since he was just a head on his jacket coloured sail, Callum tried to do that. Despite not being connected to his body, Callum could actually feel forces and gusts of wind hit his sail. They were not uniform, some hit under different angles, some hit with differing power. He wasn’t sure what to do in this form of his, but maybe he could try and rotate somehow… and sure enough, he could adjust the angle of his sail.

He tinkered until he felt the least amount of resistance amongst the wind… wait a minute, he could actually feel the wind! He could feel the forces and directions slowly change, he could predict it, not quite perfectly, but good enough for a first try.

“Ye got it, boy!” Captain Villads clapped Callum’s shoulder. He was back down on the deck now… in a blink of an eye? Callum decided to just stop questioning it. “Now, sail your way into your heart and mind.”

“But…” Callum began, but Captain Villads disappeared before Callum could finish his question. Where was his heart and mind out in this ocean? He had no clue… and the fact that darkness shrouded the sights around him and the ship scared him.

“Help! Help…” He looked around him, but found no one standing beside him. Instead, he looked for guidance: his father, mother, younger brother, Francis, Rayla… their faces appeared in his mind, all with different opinions, thoughts, ideas.

_There? Here. Keep going! Ask yourself. I hate water…_

Callum suddenly was watching from above at himself, Ruthless, the ocean, the storm – all trapped in the palm of his hand, inside The Primal Stone. So much was running in his head, it was so nauseating and disorienting. He didn’t know what to do, how to stop this. It was all so much! It filled his head to the brim!! It wouldn’t stop!!!

 _IT’S TOO MUCH!!!_ Callum smashed the Primal Stone… and everything went dark and still.

* * *

His hands were clinging onto the moist mountain side, his nails mercilessly biting into the rocks that retaliated by breaking them. Francis completely disregarded every ache his body sent him: the bleeding fingers, the cut right palm, the rubbing of the burn mark on the left forearm. The only sound he ever gave away was the hissing, with the world echoing back to him whenever he let it slip from his mouth. The wind played with his cape, wobbling it and reminding of the conveniently large drop that was looming below him. And yet, he still climbed higher up and further away.

 _Come on, Francis, you have to keep going,_ he thought to himself. _Remember what your grandmother told you: the only way is forward, because there is a pathologist behind us. In your case that would end up being more true than otherwise intended. Her doctor friend possesses an interesting kind of dark humour… only doctors can joke about something like that._

The wind hissed in his ears, as he couldn’t stop a few groans escaping his mouth, the world immediately latching onto his sounds and sending it back for him alone to hear it. The vertical climb provided to be a great challenge with his untimely injuries, but Francis kept pulling himself further upwards. Each stretch more rigid than the next, signalling that he was pushing his limits. What did he expect after fighting several soldiers and taking a hit from a Dark Magic spell all in a space of, not just a day, but a few hours!?

Francis however refused to slow down and accept ‘no’ or ‘cannot’ for an answer, as the deadly unsupportive silence surrounded him and the agonising pain in his arm got more and more tormenting. He disregarded the protests his body were screaming to him, as he latched his hands onto a slippery surface.

One slip… One slip. One slip!

The cape dragged behind him, pulling his shoulders back. This was so unbelievably risky, he could easily die. How would all of this matter if he died? Surely, it was sensible to go back down, but Callum was lying back down there at the bottom. For him, Francis had to keep going up, no matter what… he owed Callum for the selfless actions that saved him and Rayla… and Pyrrah. Callum was back down there paying for those actions with purple marks under his eyes and a deadly pale skin, sweating profusely from a fever, losing so much water. Up here, Francis missed his messy hair, his awkward scratch at the back of his neck and his infectiously smiling eyes that would sometimes go day dreamy when he looked in Rayla’s direction… and then all of that gone…

Francis’s burned hand gave way. A short inhale. The drop was in slow motion. Barely able to think quick enough, his other hand shot to something on the side of his hip, grabbed it and thrusted it into the face of the mountain. Francis slid down for a bit before stopping entirely, hanging in the air and being wobbled by the gusts of wind. He panted, letting the adrenaline wear off, and looked at the thing that saved him. It was Rayla’s pick, he used it for the first time during his climb.

 _What was I thinking?_ Francis snickered. _Did I really think that I would be able to go on, on my own all this time? We are all inherently lonely beings but we all seek interactions with others. Francis, you’re not alone anymore. Did you really think these kids wouldn’t take onto you so quickly? All you do in front them is tell them of friendship and selflessness and you expect them to just completely ignore you? How could you not consider the fact that Rayla would be fine with letting you getting captured?!_ Francis swung from side to side as he rotated his body to face the cliff. _You had Callum use your words to save you! All of this is your fault! How many times you told yourself you had to be perfect for things to work out and now look at what mess you found yourself in! You weren’t good enough and when it mattered most you weren’t perfect. You are responsible for forcing Callum to use Dark Magic to fix your miscalculations. You will fix your mistakes, if you want to bring Zym home, to the Storm Spire, and ensure that everyone lives._

Francis swung his feet into position. The whole world might have just unanimously hinted that he maybe should stop on this crazy endeavour… but this was Francis, he didn’t care what the whole world told him. Callum’s life mattered too much for him to play it safe.

Before tenaciously pulling himself upward with his steely hands, ignorant to the tortuous pain in his palm and arm, Francis unhinged the pick and defiantly rammed it into the rock.

Clang! _Build a wall in front of me,_ Clang! _I’ll go around it._ Clang! _Make it wider and double its thickness_ , Clang! _I’ll scale it._ Clang! _Build a castle and a fort in front me,_ Clang! _And I’ll go through it, head first, destroying everything in my way._ Clunk!

The ground – it was flattening! He reached one of the peaks! Francis rolled over far away from the edge onto the stable ground, his body sinking into it with great relief, as the wind grumbled with his pointy forelock. Francis took a moment to catch his breath. He calmed down and relief washed over him, as the sounds of life came back into his mind. He could undeniably hear the rushing water of a nearby stream.

Not fully recovered, Francis got up and crawled on his knees towards the source of the sweetly beckoning noise. He victoriously sipped the clean water and filled the flasks and water skins to the brim, regardless if they would weigh him down. Besides going down was always easier than climbing up.

Francis stood over the edge, his face shone brighter than the sun did. “I got the water and I’m coming back, Callum!” He shouted triumphantly for the whole world to hear.

* * *

“There is no synonym for cinnamon. There is no synonym for cinnamon. There is no synonym for cinnamon.” It was Claudia’s calming mantra. She really lost her cool back at the hospital and now she couldn’t be with her brother at all. No one was ever supposed to get hurt, least of all Soren. She just wanted to help him, that was all it was. It just wasn’t a great day today… and it looked to have gotten worse, when she heard a creature’s growl beside her.

Underneath a bridge, in the shadows, a pair of cat-like yellow eyes stared at her. The owner of those eyes revealed itself to be a banther. Totally caught off-guard, Claudia held her hands in front of her as she curled her back in on herself, preparing to be ripped apart… but the banther did not attack her.

Claudia opened one eye to see the banther just standing before her, which was odd enough, but she found that the banther wasn’t alone. Sitting on top of it was a familiar and a very sad face. “Ezran?”

“Hi, Claudia,” he replied. His normally bright and energetic voice was clearly grief-stricken.

Still in the grips of fear, Claudia backed off a little from the banther. “Ezran, I hope you know I was never meant to hurt you or Callum.” She cleared her conscience, thinking she might not get another chance.

“It was scary,” Ezran said gravely. “How you acted… but you tried to hurt Rayla and instead hurt Francis.”

“I know and I am _so_ sorry.” Claudia was still apologetic, almost begging.

Ezran regarded her for a moment, his face remaining unreadable, then climbed down from the banther. “Thank you,” he told the banther, scratching its chin affectionately. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be safe.” The banther acknowledged him with a lick to his face and took off out of town, causing a few startled yelps from the citizens.

“If I’m honest with you, I’m surprised to see you here,” Claudia spoke her mind. “And I’m even more surprised that you weren’t that banther’s dinner.”

“I have a way with animals.” Ezran said shyly, holding his hands together, as they walked along the town. “Banthers are actually really friendly. They like praise, compliments and a friendly scratch under the chin every now and then.”

“Hey, that’s like me!” Claudia joked, trying to ease the tension. Ezran’s smile was sorely missed and Claudia felt unbelievably awkward about the heavy silence that followed. Something else was amiss with the child and not just how she acted the last two times they saw each other.

“Whoa!” Ezran broke the silence looking awe struck at the damaged defence tower.

“Want to go up there?” Claudia seized her chance and thankfully Ezran nodded.

They remained silent as they went up the steps and Claudia saw Ezran’s eyes darting downward and to the side. She had a feeling she knew why that was. They sat high up on the edge, overlooking the entire town and the not too distant clearing against the backdrop of the mountains. It was a rather picturesque view, one that she sorrowfully thought Callum would take great pleasure in sketching… but he wasn’t here.

“So… Ezran, why are you here and by yourself?” Claudia proceeded.

“I found out something,” Ezran replied hesitantly, hugging his knees. “My dad…” he trailed off.

“That’s okay,” Claudia put a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” She looked back at the town, at the destruction the past few days had caused it and the people busying themselves already with repairing it, their steady beat of hammers echoing around. Despite the strife and struggle, they went on with life without complaint, even giving a hand to those who needed it.

“I know it’s not the same…” she began. “But when I was a kid, my mum and dad split up. I remember hearing them fight a lot at night after we went to bed. One day, they told us mom was moving back to her family in Del Bar and then they said…” Claudia took a shuddered breath. “We had to choose. Soren, of course chose dad and…” Claudia looked away, closing her eyes. “How could I choose? How could I do that? Then my mom looked at my dad and told me to stay.” Claudia felt tears drip down on her hands. “She told me to stay with my brother, that this was my home and that we needed each other. And then she left.”

“But how could she do that?” Ezran asked. “Why would she leave you?”

“I think she needed to leave for herself,” Claudia sounded plaintive. “To be happy… somehow. You might have noticed but my dad is pretty intense, especially with magic.” She gave him a weak smile.

“You must miss her,” Ezran said.

“Losing her has been the hardest thing that’s ever happened to me.” Claudia admitted.

“When you grow up, sometimes there are changes you don’t expect and you have to face things you’re not ready for.” Ezran said and a pleasant softness appeared on his face. “Callum told me that.”

“You’re so lucky to have a brother like Callum,” Claudia said.

“I know,” Ezran sobbed and Claudia’s heart panged with sympathy. She drew herself closer to hug him.

“And I’m lucky to have my brother,” Claudia told him. “Soren is a doof, but he is my doof! I know he would do anything to protect me and I would do anything for him.” Their hug was interrupted by a blue bird pecking at Ezran’s sleeve. Being the goodhearted and kind kid that he was, he took and cradled it into his arms, looking at it with smiling eyes.

“Soren’s sneezes are so powerful he made someone fall over.” Ezran chuckled.

“Ezran, you don’t just have a way with animals…” Claudia deduced. “You can talk to them, can’t you?”

“Yes, I can talk to them,” Ezran said looking uneasy, as if expecting her to scold.

“I need you to help me find something in the forest,” Claudia said carefully, immediately latching onto an idea. “If I can find milk-fruit, maybe I can help Soren.”

* * *

Ezran agreed to help Claudia, who was so thankful for the boy to give her another chance… or more accurately give Soren a chance to get his normal life back. Whatever it was now, Claudia couldn’t accept and live with it. They travelled through the woods, based on the squirrel’s words, which wasn’t exactly how she thought the day would go, but then again a lot of things didn’t go exactly as planned that day. Hopefully none of the actual meaning was lost in translation between the squirrel and Ezran… interestingly how did the transmission of thoughts work exactly?

“We should be here,” Ezran concluded.

“There, I see it,” Claudia pointed to a milk-fruit bush. Conveniently, a family of deer were feasting on the fruits. Ezran forgot the fact that deer loved milk-fruit… unlike Claudia.

“Francis told me that milk-fruit has a lot of useful nutrients that help you build strong bones.” Ezran recalled. Claudia nodded at him.

“Speaking of Francis,” she produced a small flask with some sort of balm. “I’m really sorry that he got hurt. Can you give him this from me?”

“What is it?”

“It’s a special ointment that is used to relieve any burning injuries,” Claudia explained. “His burn mark isn’t life threatening but the spell was enchanted to have prolonged effects that will hurt him for a while. This will speed up his recovery greatly, in fact considering how much water came in contact with the spell, the pain might be soothed by tomorrow if he uses this.”

“Thank you, Claudia. He will appreciate it.” Ezran told her.

“Callum needs you,” she moved on quickly, glancing at the deer. “Do you know your way back?”

“If I get lost, I’ve got plenty of friends to help me!” Ezran chimed.

“I’m sorry,” Claudia kneeled and put a hand on his shoulder one last time. “I’m sorry if the things I did were frightening or confusing. I care about you and Callum a lot.”

“I know,” Ezran said, subtly putting milk-fruit into her hand and producing a cheeky smirk when she noticed, before running off.

Claudia eyed the deer waiting until Ezran was far away enough. Satisfied, she exhaled and prepared to save her brother. These deer were young, agile and alive… and she needed one of them.

“I’m sorry, little one,” she whispered.

* * *

“Great job, you’ve lost the King of Katolis!” Rayla couldn’t stop laughing at a stupefied Corvus. This was the most ridiculous thing she could have ever heard. Ezran being eaten by banthers?! Well, to be fair the fact that Ezran was a very special boy and had the ability to communicate with animals was a secret from everyone. “If anything, Ezran caught a ride _on_ the banther, not in the banther!” Rayla continued to laugh at a continuously very befuddled Corvus. He just couldn’t get the fact that their king could talk to animals, talk about faith here.

Rayla hinted more than once that Corvus should probably go and promised that she wasn’t tricking him in any way, shape or form. Corvus after a few more seconds of deliberation left to return to the Banther tracks and continue his search for King Ezran, leaving her alone with Callum again.

He was still pale, sweating and dead silent – all had to be consequences of Dark Magic. Rayla crossed her arms. How could he do this to himself? Why did it have to be Dark Magic? Why was it him that was there laying out of commission and not her or Francis?

For the first time, Callum actually made movement. He twitched uneasily from side to side, groaning uncomfortably and breathing in and out so quickly as though he was out of breath.

“You messed with something you shouldn’t have messed with and now you’re paying the price.” Rayla said with a much weaker hint of bitterness than previously used.

“Help!” Callum called out desperately. Rayla’s features softened instantly. “Help…” Callum repeated.

Rayla immediately put Dark Magic at the back of her mind, her friend was suffering and she wouldn’t keep the walls up forever. “You’ll get through this,” she kneeled beside him, wiping away the excess sweat from his strained face. “You big dumb human.”

* * *

The Ruthless crashed, broken into the many pieces along with the shards from the Primal Stone. Callum held onto some of the cargo to keep himself afloat in this dark ocean, utterly exhausted from the beating water around him.

“Your conscience is a messy place, boyo!” Captain Villads pointed out. Callum just looked at him unimpressed. What business he had judging his mind? What would be good to know was what to do next? Callum heard Berto cawing, swooping down towards Captain Villads. “Villads out!” He shouted and grabbed onto Berto’s paws to get lifted into the air.

“I’m huge.” Berto squeaked, reinvigorated and flew away with his captain.

Callum stared wordlessly after them, utterly unfazed over what he was seeing anymore. Guess he wouldn’t be getting through this with their help anymore. Before he could begin to think where to start, something pulled him – an unknown force suddenly squeezed him.

Callum tried to grab hold of the cargo that kept him afloat, but his hands felt through, along with him. His head went underwater and his whole body sank rapidly towards the bottom of the ocean. The waters were a muted grey, as the lingering spotlight on him struggled against the surface of the cold biting ocean. The weight of the water crushed against his body, his skull, his ears, as Callum succumbed further into the ocean’s total deathly darkness. The pressure was forcing his lungs to snuff the fleeting air out of him and he felt his chest grow heavier. He tried to grasp for the precious life, but all it did was invite water into him. The thunder grew silent, the air and sky more distant, as Callum felt his eyelids go heavy… he could barely hear the distant voice of someone calling his name.

* * *

“Callum?” Rayla uttered his name in terror, as he gasped madly for air, like he couldn’t get enough of it… like he was drowning. “Are you okay?” She grabbed his shoulder and shook them, but he didn’t react. His eyes with purple sockets remained closed, his face as pale as a sheet. He didn’t stop panting raggedly, his face grimacing in unknown pain. “Callum! Wake up!” She shouted at him more desperately. “You’ve got to stay with me!” She begged, her eyes welling slowly up. He was trying so hard to catch his breath, but no matter how desperately he gulped for air, he looked like he was suffocating. “Callum, breathe! Slowly… please,” Rayla uttered pulling him into her embrace. “Breathe!”

* * *

“Breathe.” Beyond the gasping Callum heard the calm voice of his mother, gently placing her hand on his shoulder. The ugly sensation of water invading his mouth, nose and lungs didn’t depart him, but the awful pressure of the ocean was lifted. “Callum you need to breathe!” Callum opened his eyes to inspect the change in the environment. They were in his bedroom, sitting on his bed. “You just need to breathe, sweetie.” She softly told him again.

“I feel so overwhelmed with everything,” Callum held his head. “There’s just so many thoughts, things racing through my head.”

“Sometimes you just need to focus on the present,” Sarai told him. “Take a deep breath and just be.”

“But what I did and the things that happened…” Callum began again, his breathing intensifying, forcing Sarai to soothingly rub at his back.

* * *

“Oh, Callum, please come back!” Rayla held him tightly, feeling every time his jaw moved with every single gasp he took. “It doesn’t matter what you did before, I just want you to be okay again.” Rayla rested her head on his shoulders. She tightened her grasp on him further, because he was failing to control his breathing. She felt like her body was shuddering and trembling with Callum’s ragged breathing. Through her hand on his back, she could feel how shallower and shorter his breathing was becoming. She shut her eyes to prevent further tears from making her way down her cheeks onto Callum’s sleeveless shirt. She couldn’t get to him and she could do nothing about it now. She hid her feelings of worry from everyone all this time and hid and remained hesitant over how she actually cared about Callum and now she wouldn’t get the chance to let him know that. She sorely missed his kind eyes and his awfully wry humour. In her desperation and dejectedness, she missed how something was glowing out of Callum’s bag… something from the Key. The Sky rune was flickering.

* * *

“Sometimes things can get so complicated that our minds can’t quite sort it out alone,” Sarai kept telling him, as Callum faced her, still panting heavily. “But when you slow down and let yourself breathe, your spirit and your body can catch up with your mind and help out.”

“I just have to breathe?” Callum asked and did as he was advised. Suddenly everything actually felt easier and freer, than it ever had before. He felt the air liberate his body from the chaining feeling of water, his head and back lifted upwards with each new breath.

“To know something truly and deeply,” Sarai continued. “You must know it with your head, hand and heart – mind, body and spirit.” She invited him into his arms and grasped him deeply and lovingly. “I love you with all of myself and I always will.”

* * *

“I can’t lose you like this, you mean too much to me!” Rayla’s breath shook a couple of times, as she pulled away. “Callum, I…” she leaned closer, her hand cupping his face. She noticed how the colour slowly came back to it, making him look much more alive, as he stopped panting. His messy hair, that was so goofy and charming, was perfectly Callum. She could imagine the kind and striking green eyes on his face looking concentrated like he was sketching a drawing. She found the lack of pointy ears, being instead round, kind of cute. In fact, despite all the soft and smooth edges to his round face and skinny body, she could see the sharp, unbending and brave core of a Moonshadow elf, who was happy to sacrifice himself for others. Despite the absence of physical strength, Callum stood up and kept going, which was admirable in it of itself. Rayla felt inspired to keep going herself and be just like him… she had to, because he could and he did. Her face inched closer to Callum’s. “I…”

Callum gasped, waking up, and Rayla shot back immediately as if burned. His eyes opened wide, wider than she had ever seen. He was gulping for air again, but at least it was slowing down.

“Oh, look you’re awake again!” Rayla laughed nervously, praying he didn’t notice the openness of her actions. He grabbed control of his breath and looked at her with great relief. The corners of his mouth twitched ever so slowly upwards. She cleared her throat. “You’re even looking cheery! And is that a twinkle in your eye?” She put on a very wide smile to hide her nervousness, but then she actually paid attention to the thing she pointed out. “Oh no. It’s not a twinkle, it’s one of those sleep crusties. Here, let me.” She gave a quick lick to her thumb and brushed the edge of his eye.

“I have it,” Callum said with a huge smile on his face. “I know the Sky Arcanum.”

“Woah!” They both heard someone’s strained voice, followed by a sound of something slipping.

They looked to the side as they saw Francis fall from above. He loudly grunted as he landed loudly on his right side. Rayla was so blown away by Callum’s words, that she couldn’t react to Francis’s fall with concern. Callum, on the other hand, was too shocked to say anything. It seemed that Francis didn’t pay much attention to the pain and the fact he just fell.

“You what now?” Francis instantly asked Callum in bewildered astonishment. They stared at each other for a bit and then without warning he ran to them and encompassed both of them in a bear hug. “I’m so glad you’re alive!” He said softly and genuinely.

“Me too,” Rayla and Callum said at the same time, as they managed to weave their arms out to hug Francis back. They stayed silent like that for some time, before Callum had to break it.

“Um, where is my jacket and why is my shirt unbuttoned?” He finally noticed.

“Francis…” Rayla began.

“Oh, Rayla was just curious, is all,” Francis teased. Rayla could feel her face blushing a hot red.

“I was not! You unbuttoned him!” She fired back.

“To be fair, I was curious too,” Francis mused with a satisfied chuckle. “On a more serious note, you had a fever so we needed to help you cool down.” Callum took the responses silently.

“I’m really thirsty,” he abruptly announced.

“Well, I’ve got this fresh streamed water I just collected, frolicking my way up the mountain.” Francis hummed conveniently, as he pulled out of the hug to reach for Callum’s water flask and give it to him. “Thanks for the blade again, it saved my life.” Francis gave Rayla back her weapon.

“Wait, what?” Callum asked confused, sipping from the offered flask.

“Nothing too important,” Francis waved his hands, as his body started emitting waves of uncontrollable excitement. “There will be time to tell that later. You have to tell us about your revelation!”

“Yes, oh yes I have!” Callum said eagerly, as he put on his jacket and buttoned up his shirt.

“So what is the Sky Arcanum?” Rayla inquired.

“It’s not one simple thing,” Callum burst into an animated storm of passionate explanation. “It’s all the things. They just had to come together, you know?” Callum walked past Rayla and Francis to stand on the edge of the cliff. “It’s like, I used to hold the power of the Sky in my hand, right? But now that’s gone,” he turned around to face them. “But, guys, the whole world is like one giant Primal Stone and we’re inside it! I’m inside Sky Magic, but it’s also in me, with every breath I take!” He demonstratively breathed in and out.

“That kind of makes sense,” Rayla probably feigned that she was following along.

“It makes total sense.” Francis corrected, looking proud and no less excited than Callum. “Everything is connected and interlinked, just like I always believed and said before.”

“Yes!” Callum went on. “And I kept thinking about birds and sails and how they connect to the wind. And I thought I had to find my wings, but that’s just it – I am the wings!”

“That makes less sense… but okay!” Rayla said.

Callum looked at Francis who only looked back at him with great astonishment and happiness in his eyes. “Moment of truth,” Callum announced, facing outward. “Let’s see if I can do this.”

Callum went right to the edge, with each step his inhales deepened as he solely focused on the way the cool air travelled down through his nose, into his lungs and out of his mouth. He closed his eyes to feel the air travel through his body, his hand lifting up with each breath. He stretched his index finger to prepare to draw the rune. There! There was that long forgotten and sorely missed feeling of a cool and dry breeze on his finger! He drew the sky blue rune carefully and slowly to ensure every single stroke was perfect. Once it was done, he took as much air into his lungs as he possibly could, feeling the winds enter through his nose, as his chest steadily rose up.

“ _Aspiro_.” He casted steadfastly and pushed himself forward as he controlled the air flow from his mouth. Success! He was a mage again!

Before he could finish casting his spell he heard Francis run around wildly in pure elation, screaming and jumping in pure joy. That reaction, those emotions felt magical on Callum’s soul.

“Ezran, you’re back!” He suddenly heard Rayla shout, making his head turn before his spell was done. It ruffled their hair a little, but that was it.

“And Corvus too, I see.” Francis noticed.

“Ez was gone?” Callum asked and with the way Rayla and Ezran were hugging each other, the answer was clear. What was also clear was that there was one more person… err, animal, that missed Ezran dearly. Zym tackled Ezran to the ground and planted his paws on Ezran’s chest, while mercilessly kissing Ezran’s face.

“Uh oh, I’m reporting a casualty!” Francis announced dramatically with a giddy grin on his face. “A royal baby, just took down the King of Katolis. It seems war is inevitable now… the cutepocalypse is upon us!”

“I love your zappy kisses,” Ezran managed to say through his laughter from a barrage of electrocuting licks. “Callum, you figured it out? You can do magic again!” He said cheerily.

“That’s incredible Prince Callum, may I offer you my congratulations.” Corvus said.

“Thanks,” Callum replied, before politely asking. “Uh… who are you?”

“You missed a few things while you were out,” Rayla explained.

“‘A few’ is an understatement.” Francis remarked.

“This is Corvus, he’s on our side now.” Rayla finished.

“I’ve always been on the same side – I serve the young King.” Corvus stated.

“What?” Callum asked, fearing that he knew what that statement truly meant.

“I know about dad,” Ezran confirmed Callum’s concerns, whilst absentmindedly scratching Zym’s mane. Callum slowly got closer to his brother, thinking of what to say. His speech he was readying himself for was completely thrown out of the window now and the situation was now different. He had to quickly react, but even as he took a knee beside Ezran he still couldn’t come up with anything on the spot.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” Callum admitted. “I’m so sorry that I didn’t tell you before. I tried to, but I just… couldn’t.” Ezran didn’t say anything, as Callum saw his eyes become tearful. He grabbed hold of Callum and they both didn’t let go of each other for a while.

* * *

Soren thought a lot about what his next haiku was going to be about. He suddenly was obsessed with what he could do with his mind now, since he knew he would never walk again. All of a sudden, for him his paralysis didn’t really matter. It was just all gone at the back of his head. Maybe he could branch into being a writer, maybe he could become an orator or maybe he could become the first artist to exclusively draw with his mouth? So many options, so many possibilities that he had never even consider before. He wouldn’t have to constantly compete with Francis, with his father’s expectations and others’ as well. He would just be free…

“What are you doing?” Soren heard amidst the sudden clatter of objects, that got louder and louder; closer and closer. “You can’t be in here, the patient needs rest!” Soren did his best to move his head around to see what was happening and who was making all of the noise. The slowly setting sun rays didn’t go far beyond his bed, so it was hard to see into the shadows of his room… yet a pair of purple lights made it clear who it was.

“Claudia?” Soren barely recognised her sister as the strands of her hair floated around her in the air. Both of her hands were inside opaque light blue orbs, with the same coloured flames coming off of her palms. “What…” her shining purple eyes trained on Soren when he spoke. “What are you doing?”

Claudia unleashed the spell on Soren as he saw lightning latch onto his limbs. He felt them! He felt them contort… he felt only pain. Soren was hurting and being electrocuted all over so much that he couldn’t stop himself from screaming out. The longer it went on, the sharper the pain got; the louder Soren screamed, the higher he began to levitate in the air. Soren could feel everything down to his skin, bones and muscles twitch uncontrollably from the spell… and then it stopped all at once, as he collapsed back into his bed. He felt his back hit the matrass pretty hard, as it sent sharp shooting signals into the rest of his body… all of which felt it.

“What’s this?” He grunted in disbelief and slowly building excitement. “I can feel my toes!” He wiggled them and sure enough they all were responding well. “I can move my toes!” He confirmed in a loud manner. “I forgot how much I love wiggling them!” He laughed, before making the logical conclusion. “I can feel again! I can feel my knees and my strong powerful thighs!” He tried to sit up to feel the said powerful thighs, but his ribs protested in anger – Soren only now realised he broke them at the confrontation. In truth, despite feeling his thighs he wasn’t able to lift his legs very highly… but feeling was something at least. He still felt heavily gravitated to the bed though. “Ugh, the pain is horrible,” he lamented, but he looked on the bright side. “I can feel again!”

After the initial surge of elation, Soren managed to recall what had actually happened prior to his miracle healing. It was then with horror he heard heavy, pained and exhausted breathing of his crumpled sister on the wooden floor underneath the room’s shadows.

“Clauds, are you okay?” Soren asked, the worry widened his eyes. Claudia could barely stay on all fours, let alone lift her head up… but something else was off. One of the strands of her black hair was now completely white.

“You’re going to be better now,” she said weakly from the dark shadows, as her black eyes regained colour. “That’s all that matters.”

* * *

Ezran stared West at the setting sun, preparing himself for the inevitable. His heart pulled him East, but the longer he rationalised it, the clearer the answer became to him.

“How is your arm, Francis?” He overheard Rayla ask.

“Thanks to Claudia’s ointment – really good.” Francis replied. “In all honesty though, I almost forgot my arm was in a bad shape.”

Knowing Francis that was probably not entirely true. Ezran thought that it was interesting how much Francis didn’t always say everything about himself… but he wasn’t a liar. He was an open person, but he didn’t truly lay his personal matters and feelings out fully… and that wasn’t ever an issue for Ezran. All Ezran knew was that when something mattered greatly, when something needed to be said and done – Francis was always honest and transparent. Now it was Ezran’s time to do the same.

“Everything’s packed and everyone’s healthy,” Rayla said excitedly. “And we’re just a few hours away from the border of… Eastern Xadia.” She almost misspoke. There was a strange mixture of panging and touching feeling deep down in Ezran’s heart that he couldn’t quite describe… it was probably nothing.

“Packed and ready!” Callum confirmed brightly, looking as healthy as ever.

“All right, the whole crew is here,” Francis stopped playing with Zym. “Apart from his majesty. Ezran!” He called him over.

Ezran took a deep breath – moment of truth. He turned to his friends who were anticipating the continuation of their journey. He stood still, mulling over his next words very carefully. Francis’s face was carefully regarding him now.

“When you told me assassins were coming for dad,” Ezran said to Callum. “I ran away and hid in the walls.”

“With a heavy stash of jelly tarts, I recall.” Callum humoured back.

“Yeah,” Ezran said unenthusiastically. It was now Rayla’s face that went a little pensive. Ezran continued. “And when I found out that dad was gone forever – I ran away again.” Callum’s face finally turned from his playful to a much more lamenting and sympathetic expression. “I’ve been running away from things my whole life, but I can’t run away from growing up.” Ezran said sagely. He suddenly felt his brother bump shoulders with him, placing a hand around it.

“Now that you’re King Ezran are you going to start saying wise things like that all the time?” Callum asked light-heartedly, perhaps trying to cheer him up.

“Callum… he’s serious…” Francis uttered and Callum’s face fell, when Ezran tellingly placed a hand over his and looked up at him.

“When you grow up, you have to face things you’re not ready for,” Ezran repeated Callum’s words, before turning away from his friends and letting them know of his ultimate decision. “I’m not going with you to Eastern Xadia. I have to face my responsibility, now that I’m King I have to go home. Maybe I can help the world better from the throne. I can do whatever I can to stop the war.”

“That kid is too clever and too goodhearted for his age.” Francis proclaimed, with a slackened jaw. That was when Ezran was fully confident that his decision was right.

“Returning Zym to his mother is the world’s best hope at peace.” Rayla stated.

“I know and you three will do that,” Ezran replied. “You’ll find his mom and Zym will take his place in Eastern Xadia, just like I have to take mine.” Ezran sighed at the sad silence. “I really wish I could go with you, but I can’t. You have to do this without me.”

“I have one more favour to ask of you Corvus.” Francis glanced from behind his crossed arms.

“I will travel with the King and keep him safe.” Corvus understood.

“Ezran, are you sure?” Rayla asked.

“Oh, he’s certain.” Francis replied for him.

“I’ll miss you Rayla, but I promise I’ll see you again.” Ezran hugged her.

“You’d better, I know where you live.” Rayla ruffled his hair in good nature.

“As soon as Zym is home, I’ll come back to help you.” Ezran turned to Callum’s voice and embraced him in a tight hug. “I love you.” He told him.

“I love you, too.” Ezran replied equally affectionately.

Their hug was interrupted by a whimpering Zym, who was jumping at Ezran’s leg. “I’m so proud of you, little guy,” Ezran kneeled down to hold Zym by his face. “You’re going to grow up so big and strong. I’m sorry I couldn’t help you learn to fly, but I know you’ll get it soon!” Zym whimpered again at that. “I wish you could come with me too, but you need to go and be with your mom.” Ezran scratched soothingly at Zym’s leaning head. “That’s your home, both of us need to go home.”

There was one last person to say goodbye to. Ezran turned to Francis. He kneeled down, smiling proudly and his eyes shone at him with great admiration, but they also flickered with sadness. The saddest eyes Ezran had ever seen on Francis.

“You’re way too smart for an eight year old.” Francis complained jokingly.

“Are you saying I need to rely on my intellect to rule Katolis?” Ezran asked.

“You’re still a mischievous little bugger, you are.” Francis smile widened beyond the corners of his mouth.

“You’re not going to test me on what ‘intellect’ means?” Ezran questioned and Francis chuckled at that.

“I know that you know,” he said, looking at him with great respect. “You would make a great King if you keep this up, your majesty.”

“You can still call me, Ez.” Ezran requested.

Francis nodded. “Thank you for fulfilling my life long wonder of what it would be like to have a younger brother. I feel honoured to have met you,” he spoke. Ezran jumped into a hug, resting his head on his shoulder.

“Why? I haven’t done anything special.” He whispered to him.

“You never had to; you just needed to be there.” Francis replied quietly, before pulling away. He still held him when he said his parting words. “In life or in leadership, whatever you do, never betray yourself, Ezran. Also, never make promises you cannot keep.”

“I will follow that advise.” Ezran promised. The air felt unbearably heavy with melancholy.

“Oh, one last thing,” Francis spoke louder so that everyone could hear. “When you come back to Katolis, be sure to let everyone know, with my validation, that you are officially the best brother in all of Xadia.” He said in jest, successfully brightening the atmosphere as he got a few chuckles out of his friends.

“I’ll be sure to do that.” Ezran giggled.

“If anyone disagrees,” Francis demonstratively cracked his knuckles. “You know… the whole Pentarchy tournament spiel and everything.”

Ezran sighed. No matter how long he would love to delay his departure, he had to leave eventually and preferably now while the atmosphere was somewhat lighter. “Goodbye, I’ll see you all later.” He said, waving his hand.

“In our hearts and minds, we’ll always be with you and you likewise with us.” Francis said one last time, as everyone waved their hands.

Ezran picked a very blue Bait up and went ahead of Corvus. He was coming back home, but still continuing with their mission.

“Let’s sit for the road, before we move on ourselves.” Francis told the rest of his friends. He wished all people were as kind and pure as Ezran, but he also wished for Ezran to never change. A promise no one could ever keep.

* * *

Despite getting the feeling back, Soren’s body was still in shambles. Everything hurt, a lot of bones were broken and it would take a week to be able to walk normally again. Despite everything he didn’t feel free or liberated, in fact somehow magically healing his body made him feel worse and chained. Not only he utterly refused the wheelchair, forcing to settle on using the crutches and Claudia for assistance, but he was now plunged back into what he did before. He didn’t mind resuming his work as the Crown Guard again, but he was immediately reminded of what his father asked him to do before they left Katolis. The simple thought of facing such tasks terrified him… look at what it had already led to?

It was decided that him and Claudia would set out back home tomorrow morning and the fact that they were coming back empty handed didn’t help his mind to focus on anything other than the horrifying thought, the label of shame and failure.

“We both failed our secret mission.” He said into the dusk, as him and Claudia left the hospital. “What’s dad going to say?”

“We’re both alive.” Claudia creaked from under his heavy arm. Soren did his best to not lean on his sister at all, but there was only so much he could as his body was still exhausted, his armpits sinking into the crutches. Claudia continued. “That’s the important thing… and we are not coming back empty-handed.” Claudia produced the red horn that Soren chopped off of the dragon in the fight. It seemed like a small thing, but clearly to Claudia this meant a lot. It was enough for Soren to give a smile… and it was also enough for him to get unforeseen inspiration, as he came up with it on the spot.

“Failed missions, mad dad.

But dragon horn means magic.

Maybe dad not mad!”

Claudia counted the syllables and judging by her lit up eyes Soren did it right this time. “Yes! That was amazing!” She threw her hands up in the air, promptly making Soren fall over and experience excruciating pain all over his body. He heard her sister make an apologetic squeak at that. Again, not the reaction he was expecting, but it only reinforced the idea that maybe he had what it took to become a great poet. His fall – worth it!

* * *

Callum did miss a lot, when he was out, as Rayla and Francis recalled the events deep into the night. They kept telling him about it in such a calm manner, like none of it was a life threatening or horrifying experience. They just walked ahead of him as though as they were unfazed by everything and remained stoic throughout. Maybe they were trying to not make him worry too much or maybe they were trying to help him get distracted from the loud absence of his little brother. Yet, he was just as downcast as Zym was, who hung to his shoulder looking backwards into the distance. After all this time, they were right next to the border and Ez was not with them.

“He’s doing the right thing, Callum.” Francis broke the uncomfortable silence that befell upon them. Callum’s unspoken, ringing feelings were somehow heard by Francis.

“I still can’t quite believe it.” Callum admitted. There was no point in asking how Francis knew. He just always seemed to be able to tell.

“Me neither,” Rayla said supportively. “But we can’t think about it now. We need to keep going.” And so they did, until way past midnight.

“We’re here.” Francis announced bringing the team to a halt.

They came to the border, a massive river of lava, and just out of view on the other side, the rocks and canyons of Eastern Xadia. Floating along the top of the river were a bunch of flat rocks, that clustered together and nearly covered the entire river.

“One simply walks into Eastern Xadia, huh?” Callum questioned and decided to lead the team by stepping on those rocks.

“Hold on!” Rayla and Francis both said and grabbed Callum by his hands.

“There is a trick to it,” Rayla continued, as soon as her panic relaxed.

“Only certain stones will stay afloat long enough for us to walk on them.” Francis elaborated.

“I thought we agreed that I tell him everything about Xadia!” Rayla jabbed.

“ _Eastern_ Xadia” Francis corrected firmly. “We _both_ agreed to tell him.”

“Well, this is kind of my thing, _Moon_ stone path.” Rayla reiterated.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to steal the spotlight and make you all jealous.” Francis said sarcastically, causing Rayla to get a light blush.

“So how do we know…” Callum began, before both of them cut him off.

“Patience, friend.”

Rayla turned Callum’s attention up to the cloudy sky and to the emerging moon and Francis with a well-timed click of his fingers, signalled to turn Callum’s attention to the rocks. Different lunar lit runes appeared on some of them, forming a path all the way to the other side.

“The Moonstone path… oh I get it!” Callum had his moment of revelation, as he followed Rayla onto the path.

“Really, it wasn’t obvious?” Francis asked, slightly bemused by his comment. He rounded off the trio. “Me and Rayla had the least amount of sleep and you’re still the slowest one?”

“It was an absolutely restless dream, I still had work to do!” Callum defended.

“Still slept like a candle.” Francis said jocundly, then turned serious. “We need to hurry though. Not only does the path slowly sink behind us, but the sun is rising soon and we won’t be able to see the runes. Let’s just hope the moon doesn’t get covered by another cloud forcing us to wait.”

The trio made quick progress, while passing time with some light-hearted conversation. It was as though as death was clearly not just bubbling below their feet.

“You’re not afraid that your cape might get singed?” Rayla asked half seriously, half in jest.

“Nope, it’ll be fine, at worst only a quarter of it will get minor burns.” Francis replied with a light tone, despite feeling heat from the lava. “I’m going to get a good tan after this one, though we all still have a long way to go.” Rayla shrugged her shoulders, Moonshadow elves were notoriously pale skinned and nothing could change that.

“Oh, Callum, did you know that the Sunfire elves make their Sun Forge blades by dipping them in this lava?” Rayla concealed her mischief.

“Really?” Callum blinked. He must have fell for it for a split second, but then he went. “Let me try it out with your swords.” He reached out to Rayla’s back, who jumped away every single time his fingers got close. “Come on, I’m a mage in training, I’ll be able to cast some cool spell.”

“Don’t you dare! You’ll probably set me on fire or something.” She swatted his hands away.

“The kid’s learning,” Francis said. “Finally, after a billionth time of falling for the same trick. He’s half-way there to being able to tell when you’re joking.” They both finally stopped their frankly dangerous interaction, instead focusing their sights on the arch at the end of the lava walking journey.

“I can’t wait to see all the luscious magical views of Xadia!” Callum squeaked.

“Eastern Xadia.” Francis corrected.

“Sorry, I’m still getting used to that.” Callum rubbed the nape of his neck.

“Just don’t gawk too much,” Rayla shook her head. “We won’t hesitate to leave you behind if we lose you to daydreaming.”

“Don’t lie, Rayla – you won’t be able to leave him behind.” Francis noted.

“I won’t hesitate!” She claimed, as the pink spread to her cheeks.

“Sure you won’t,” Francis scoffed. “Who will listen to you talking about Eastern Xadia then?” She sighed, rolled her eyes and looked ahead, blushing even harder probably. “Anyways, don’t get too excited, Callum,” Francis continued. “For the first three quarters of the day, we’ll have to travel through an unremarkably bland canyon before you get the picturesque view that will inevitably populate your sketchbook.” Francis paused as if remembering something. “Let’s hope the entrance of the canyon will be uneventful.”

“Sol Regem?” Rayla’s body tensed at the suggestion.

“He’s been there the last two times I went through.” Francis nodded.

“Yeah, he isn’t particularly keen on humans, especially after what happened last time.” Rayla said.

“Oh, wow, it’s like he hates humans! We here in Eastern Xadia love originality!” Francis snarled sarcastically, shaking his head. He continued however with a more upbeat tone. “Maybe third time’s the charm? Maybe the morning light will be kind this time? Knowing our luck however, the world will make sure he’ll be the first to greet us. Just don’t mind the first impressions, Callum.”

“Who’s Sol Regem?” Callum asked.

“The Sun King,” Francis replied with contempt. “He was the Dragon King before Avizandum. His legacy is the symbol of rage and bitterness. He was blinded by a Dark Mage during his destruction of Elarion way before Xadia was split in half, kick starting the long conflict and a series of wars that lead us to today. Sunfire elves worship him, replicating the shape of his horns in swords, armour and crowns. A long time ago, they used to call him The Rising Sun,” his face frowned immediately. “… rising sun…” his eyeballs went astronomically wide at the realisation. “The sun is rising!” In all of their conversation they hadn’t noticed how the rays were intruding through the arch to wipe away the lit runes. Despite the pace, they still didn’t give themselves enough time to cross the border.

“Run!” Callum shouted, grabbing Zym.

“You don’t say.” Francis pointed out as he was the first to start running ahead of them, closely followed by the rest of them. They only made it to the final tenth of the path, before the sun snatched away the runes on designated stones. Francis made a few bold steps ahead, clearly relying on his memory, but that only got him further by an insignificant amount. Now they were stuck and in deep trouble.

Zym whined and whimpered in Callum’s arms, trembling in terror and looking helplessly back to the West.

“Okay let’s not panic,” Francis thought out loud. The path was sinking ever so slowly behind them, but they still had enough time to do this. He held some semblance of collectedness and control over the situation, as he unsheathed his sword. “Prepare to trial and error this at the expense of your personal belongings. I just hope it doesn’t get down to clothes, if they’re even heavy enough that is.”

“How about hoping to make out of this alive?” Rayla suggested.

“Oh, we will – failure is not an option; death is not on the schedule.” Francis replied in his confident tone, poking a few stones with his not lavaproof sword.

“The rocks behind us are sinking already, we’re on a really tight schedule!” Rayla voiced her concerns.

“Callum, I’m just warning you, but you might want to potentially say goodbye to your sketchbook.” Francis said.

“What? No! It’s the only thing I have left of my step-father. It was his first gift after he married my mother!” Callum retaliated.

“This cape and sword are my grandfather’s and trust me, apart from intrinsic value, it also has history beyond me. Yet, I value our life over this.” Francis reiterated at a defeatedly sighing Callum.

Zym let out a howling cry. _Help me!!! Please! I don’t want to die!_ He desperately searched for someone to answer his call… and a helping hand came.

_I can see you… you can see me. Okay, Zym, you can do this. You need to block the light from the top of the arch! Follow my motions… it’s okay, he won’t mind._

Zym followed through, as he climbed up on Callum’s shoulders and placed his front two paws on his head. Like a pair of hands, he flapped his wings and leapt off of his head. _Whoo!_

“He’s flying!” Callum pointed out, as Francis and Rayla cheered.

“He’s trying to block out the sun.” Rayla proclaimed.

“That dragon is too smart for his age,” déjà vu clearly hit Francis. “Why do I have a feeling I said something like that before?” He pondered.

_I knew you could do it!_

Zym relaxed slightly, since he didn’t plunder straight back down after he leapt. He was successively flying for the first time! Yet it couldn’t last forever… just as Zym felt nervy tension leave him, he began to rapidly descend and no matter how much he tried to flap his wings, he couldn’t get back up in the air. In reality, in any other situation, it would have been a cause for celebration that he made so far before crashing back downwards… but this was a totally different situation. Zym was barely bouncing away from the sinking rocks, right at the last moments.

“He isn’t going to make it.” Rayla gasped.

“He will,” Callum said defiantly and quickly drew the wind breath rune. “ _Aspiro!_ ” Storms of wind exhaled from his mouth, picking Zym right back up on course. Callum made sure that every last iota of air guided Zym, as he nearly collapsed on his knees from the spell.

“Yeah!” Francis celebrated thrusting his hands into the air. “Great thinking, Callum!”

Zym landed on top of the arch, spreading his wings and making his shadow bigger, allowing the runes to appear back on the stone. No one needed the signal to run across this time. They sprinted all the way to end, to the safe land. They celebrated with a relieved group hug as soon as they got far away from the lava.

“It seems to me now that death defying stunts and close calls is a normal part of the package for us.” Francis remarked as he held them in a bone crushing grasp.

“We’ll live through a couple more.” Rayla said with conviction.

“And I was panicking that we’ll have to get to throwing our clothes to test out the rocks! What a crazy thing to consider, we haven’t even got to throwing away our weapons yet!” Francis chuckled.

“Are you sure you’re not going mad?” Callum asked.

“Positive,” Francis replied, then heard crazed yipping from a certain someone. “Oh, hey let’s get Zym in on the group hug!” Zym kissed everyone’s face in that group hug. Their success was truly a Team effort.

“Well, it’s morning already. Guess we’ll have to keep going and sleep later.” Rayla stated.

“Ah, I’m not going to wake any of you up tomorrow, am I?” Francis sighed. “Also, thank you for reminding me to do something. Enjoy, because you haven’t seen me do this yet!” Francis said with an excited glint in his eyes, as he broke the group hug and stretched his arms outward, spinning around to face the sun. “Good morning, Xadia!” He shouted into the air, inhaling it deeply. It unpleasantly scorched his airways, they were still a little too close to the lava.

“He’s mad.” Rayla deadpanned, staring at the back of his head, just like the rest of them were.

“A new day – a new opportunity to live! What great things you have in store for us?” Francis smiled. He missed Eastern Xadia and now he wasn’t out here living in it alone.


	18. Good Morning, Xadia!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the border crossed, Team Zym rued their luck once more - third time was not the charm. Meanwhile, another person was forced to cross the border elsewhere.

In the fortress, atop the battlements and overlooking the molten bubbling Breach, stood a furiously ruminative figure of General Amaya. The past few days had been eventful, both here and back in Katolis castle. General Amaya wasn’t at all surprised to find out from Marcos’s report that Lord Viren was found out to be a traitor. What was quite unfortunate was the timing, since it really put her situation in jeopardy. The outpost on the Xadian side of the border fell to the Sunfire elves. They were left vulnerable to a further attack on the main fortress. The elves had the momentum; General Amaya’s battalion was undermined and no reinforcements were to be expected.

Lieutenant Fen, her closest advisor in the absence of Commander Gren, had been constantly suggesting to her for the fortress to be abandoned – a price she wasn’t willing to take. She wanted to hold onto the fortress, but the more she thought about it the clearer it became that the odds were so heavily stacked against her that holding onto it was practically impossible. She wanted, but she couldn’t… and it infuriated her. It infuriated her so much that she let it out on the stone wall beside her, denting it with ease.

She threw her last punch and her hand lingered in the wall’s cracks that encircled her wrist. Her eyes narrowed at the damage. It wasn’t uncommon for General Amaya’s angry outbursts to end up destructive, one way or the other. It was the best way for her to get rid of her built up emotions, but this time it gave her a hint, an idea. She twisted her head at the vibrations she felt at the shaky footsteps of the soldier, making him flinch.

“General Amaya,” she read the timid soldier’s quivering lips. “There is someone who wants to speak with you.” General Amaya waved the guard away and permitted for whoever it was to come in.

In the doorway, the timid figure of the soldier was replaced with a relaxed and open one, as General Amaya squinted at the man who stepped in. Even in the dim light, she instantaneously recognised the freckles on her friend’s face. She ran onto Commander Gren and picked him up in the air, giving him a bone crushing hug. It may have only been a fortnight since she last saw him, but it felt like ages and thus she inspected him carefully.

In that time Gren managed to grow a stubble, a consequence of being imprisoned she later found out. Gren told her that Viren was now also behind bars, but unfortunately no reinforcements were still not coming either.

Having told him her side of the story, Gren got immediately consumed with the task, but General Amaya immediately reassured him that she had a solution. “ _We can’t defend it and there is no way I’m abandoning the fortress_ ,” she signed. “ _Our only option is to destroy the path to it. Tell the soldiers to prepare the explosives!_ ”

* * *

Third time was not the charm. Sol Regem was there again, blocking their path to Eastern Xadia. His massive and ragged body perched on higher grounds, looming over the passage. The Archdragon scoffed and grumbled at the birds that were brave enough to touch his scratched horns, shaking his head in irritation. His fiery red and yellow body threateningly rose and fell with each heated breath that would eradicate everything down to plain ashes. Sneaking was the only option available to them.

“It’s time for your first lesson in the ways of stealth.” Rayla told Callum.

“Nice!” Callum said in a not so quiet manner, raising his scarf to cover his face. The irony couldn’t be stronger.

“The guy is blind, you won’t need to hide your face.” Francis pointed out with an exasperated sigh.

“The secret to stealth is that you don’t have to be invisible,” Rayla went on. “You just have to be invisible to your enemy’s senses.”

“Is that so?” Francis challenged cheekily. “Care to explain why you all like to go invisible on your missions and why you have that power in the first place?”

“Because we’re cool.” Rayla fired back to a shrugging Francis.

“So he’s blind, so we don’t need to worry about his sense of sight,” Callum concluded correctly.

“Right, that leaves smell and hearing.” Rayla continued the notion.

“Got it,” Callum nodded. “All this stuff about senses and appearances it kind of sounds like Moon Arcanum stuff.”

“If you say so… mage.” Rayla replied. That certainly got the wind in Callum’s sails and Rayla looked upbeat about it.

“Try to focus you two,” Francis warned, deciding not to call out the very, very subtle flirt from Rayla. “Here’s how we’re going to do it. I’ll go ahead on one path, you two will follow a different path. That way we’ll cover more ground and it will be harder to localise us if we make too much noise.”

“Sounds good,” Rayla approved, though Zym wasn’t particularly happy. He whimpered and trembled at the simple idea of coming anywhere close to Sol Regem. “Please, try to keep him quiet.” She pleaded to Callum.

“I know it’s just,” Callum sighed. “Ez, would know how to calm you down wouldn’t he? We just need to trust each other.” He told Zym, who eventually relaxed a little… or maybe he put on a brave face.

Francis went where he said he would, to the side and going the longer way around. That way if anything went off he could easily help out. As he went around, brushing against the rustling breeze, Francis became more and more worried, that something would just go off. The world usually liked to challenge them lately. One mistake; one misstep was all it took!

Zym’s behaviour didn’t particularly help. Fighting a dragon was an even worse prospect, worse than usual as his right side stiffened ever so slightly with each step. It did take a nasty fall and he was all out of aloe paste and any other kinds of ointments. Francis swallowed and went on ahead. He didn’t want to think about it, this had to go smoothly and they had to make it to the Storm Spire. There was no other choice. Their only goal and thus plan of action was to reach it as quickly as they possibly could – no room for failure!

Despite his insistence on being perfect throughout, Rayla had the audacity to graciously flip from rock to rock leading Callum down the path. Credit where credit was due, she was extremely agile and had some style, but this flair was unnecessary. Callum could only try to keep up with her, but he also had to keep the little Zym calm… and of course, since it became habitual as of late, it went wrong – Zym panicked.

The dragonling escaped Callum’s grasp and cowered behind a small rock, making way too much noise. Sol Regem lowered his head, the fiery light in his front chest slowly building up from the bottom of his neck to his mouth, threatening to escape in an igneous roar. Francis twisted his body to prepare to run in. Sol Regem was about to disintegrate the future King of the dragons! Thankfully, Rayla was just quick enough to grab Callum and Zym and jump behind a set of rocks out of the way of the raining fire. Francis was undetected, potentially making him an extremely viable surprise card later on, and his friends were very lightly singed. It was a really close call, but now that Sol Regem was alerted to the rest of his team what were they supposed to do now?

* * *

“So sneaking is out, running is out, fighting is out. What’s left?” Callum asked clutching Zym close to his chest.

“Burning to death?” Rayla questioned.

“Definitely out,”Callum sighed. “If only Francis was with us, he would know what to do.”

“I know what he would say,” Rayla said in a complaintive manner. “It’s down to my least favourite course of action – reason.” Rayla went out to the Archdragon.

Callum almost went after her to stop her from doing it but it was too late. Scared for her life, he remained hidden behind their rock and watched her nervously step out towards the Archdragon.

“Mighty Sol Regem, I am Rayla of the Moonshadow elves.” Callum never heard her speak so unusually formally before, as he watched her bow. She may have tried to cover up how scared she was, but Callum was able to catch the glimpses of her uneasiness. He barely caught Francis way in the distance, to the side of Sol Regem, waving his hands around to get his attention.

“ _What’s the plan?_ ” Callum almost forgot that Francis could sign, as he just about made out his fingers.

“ _Reasoning_.” He replied back, uncomfortably eyeing the dragon that was sniffing Rayla.

“What are you doing?” Sol Regem asked, his voice deep and echoing across the entire canyon. The echoes encircled Callum’s ears, magnifying Sol Regem’s presence.

“Uh, I’m bowing, great dragon,” Rayla pointed out the obvious in a fear riddled voice. He was blind after all.

“No, I mean why are you here?” Sol Regem specified.

“ _Whatever you do, don’t panic!_ ” Francis signed to Callum. “ _I’m here and if we don’t get past this now, we have time to prepare_.”

“On what kind of business would Queen Zubeia send you out to the wretched human lands?” Sol Regem asked after Rayla explained half the story, overbearing his teeth right in front of her, so much so that she took a step backwards.

“We are transporting the new-born Dragon Prince, Azymondias.” Rayla replied with a visible gulp.

“Lies!” Sol Regem roared into her face, his greying mane shaking angrily. “You dare lie to me?”

“The egg of the Dragon King wasn’t destroyed! I have the Dragon Prince right here!” Rayla darted back towards the rock. Zym immediately protested and whimpered at the prospect of being shown to Sol Regem, forcing Callum to wrestle with him, as he tried to escape once again. He was really scared from the sheer size and presence of the dragon and he didn’t want to face him at all, but then again neither would Callum… and Rayla also seemed more than a little uncomfortable with doing it.

Callum onlooked as Rayla caught Zym and went back to present it to Sol Regem. He couldn’t deny it was extremely brave of her not only to reveal the Dragon Prince, but also go and face Sol Regem on her own. He wished she didn’t have to, but he certainly hoped that he wouldn’t have to do it.

The creature towered over Rayla and Zym, checking the accuracy of Rayla’s word. Callum was reminded once again that the simple fact that Zym was alive was a fact only known to them and very few others. This was a miracle for this world and a chance they had to grab and use with every limb they had available to them.

“He needs to go back home and be reunited with his mother.” Rayla begged.

“I do not understand how the Dragon Prince came to be in the human lands,” Sol Regem rose his head to announce his decision. “However, I will allow you and the dragonling to pass back into Xadia.” Rayla and Callum… and probably Francis too, breathed a sigh of relief… too early. “But not the filthy human who cowers nearby.” Callum sighed defeatedly, he would have to face the dragon.

“Sol Regem…” Rayla was probably about to try and lie to cover for Callum, but he wouldn’t give her the chance to risk herself in that way.

“It’s okay, you go on without me.” Callum emerged.

“No!” Rayla protested, turning her back to Sol Regem. “Callum, we’re so close!”

“Rayla, getting Zym home is the only thing that matters,” Callum insisted. “Just tell the Dragon Queen I helped… a little. I’ll go back home.” Callum turned around, despite clearly seeing Francis defiantly unsheathing his sword and Rayla looking disinclined from letting him go.

“Home?” Sol Regem cackled, spreading his wings that cast a shadow over the canyon. “No, there are two choices: you all die or just the wretched, evil human dies.” Callum swallowed, he didn’t particularly want to, but this was an overwhelmingly powerful beast that towered over the canyon, albeit old and blind. He couldn’t particularly argue against him and he was prepared to choose the latter option, but he hoped that there was something else that could be done… his friends also had other ideas on that dilemma, but Rayla acted first before Francis was able to do anything.

“I agree with you, Sol Regem, some humans are evil,” Rayla said firmly. “But not this one, not Callum. The only reason the Dragon Prince is alive is because of this human. He left his home and his family to save the egg and he sacrificed everything so that Azymondias could be born. He’s noble and true.” Callum felt so taken aback in the moment, that he hadn’t even noticed the fact that she was facing him now and was taking steps towards him. “When we met he could have had me captured or killed, but he didn’t, because without knowing me or anything about me, he saw past human hatred and did what he knew was right. He’s smart and kind and brave and he’s…” Rayla stopped herself, darting her eyes to the side in a moment of deliberation, but quickly looked back right into Callum’s eyes. “My friend… my best friend.”

Callum couldn’t stop himself from smiling at such a heartfelt speech. Weren’t they supposed to be his thing? Rayla offered him her hand and Callum took it without a second thought, as their fingers fit between the spaces perfectly. Callum now truly felt how much smaller her hands were, which shouldn’t have been surprising considering they were missing an entire finger, but despite their size those hands packed quite a punch.

They both turned to face Sol Regem, presenting their hands in front of them. He may have been blind, but it didn’t really matter; it was still a statement nonetheless. In truth, right there and now Callum felt much calmer and safer with her beside him, not even needing Francis in that moment… he wondered if the move had the same effect on her. Although if it came down to a confrontation she would no doubt be doing more of the heavy lifting.

“So please, allow him to pass into Xadia and help me take the Dragon Prince back home, because… I don’t think I can do it without him.” Rayla admitted.

Callum couldn’t quite believe Rayla’s honesty. Did she really hold him in such high regard? She was a fine back flipping fighter, there was nothing she couldn’t do and they had Francis, one of the most reliable and steely people he had ever known. So why did she need him? It wasn’t like he didn’t appreciate it, he was truly touched by it, but he hadn’t felt like he did anything out of the ordinary. Was this how Francis felt whenever Callum went on about his heroics?

Callum remained rooted, despite his impulses, when Sol Regem lowered his head to sniff him, but there was no stopping him and Rayla stumbling backwards when Sol Regem roared. “I smell death!”

“What? No, Callum is different!” Rayla bravely insisted, though her posture was inclined backwards, hinting at retreat.

“I smell the reek of Dark Magic on him; he’s no different.” Sol Regem intimidatingly clawed the walls of the canyon next to him. “He rips the life and magic out of innocent creatures. He must die.” The bottom scale on Sol Regem’s neck lit up a fiery yellow.

“Then so be it.” Callum proclaimed, not entirely ready or convinced by his own words, yet he stood his ground anyway. “If it’s what it takes for Zym and Rayla to get to Eastern Xadia… I’m sorry Francis and Rayla…” he whispered.

“What are you doing?” Rayla shouted, grabbing and dragging him by his hand behind cover. “You almost sounded like Francis with your dramatic self-sacrificial antics. At least he only wanted to turn himself in, while you have a death wish. Don’t do that!” She scolded him.

“But how are you going to get into Eastern Xadia then?” Callum reasoned.

“Just calm down, we’re not doing it at your expense, no matter what! I won’t know what to do if I lose you for real this time!” Rayla insisted, still feeling the effects of her heartfelt speech. She pointed to the scales on Sol Regem’s neck, which were only lit a quarter of the way up. “Look, he’s recharging; we’ve got time. He can’t use his fire breath yet, he can do only it once every few minutes. So we have time to prepare.” 

_So that was what Francis meant._ Callum thought. “So what’s the plan?”

“Reuniting with Francis would be a good start.” Rayla mused.

“Well, I can see him and we can communicate via sign language.” Callum pointed out.

“Okay, that’s good to know.” Rayla wasn’t exactly sure what Callum meant, but she assumed it was a good thing. She then asked. “Has he said… err, signed anything?”

Callum looked in Francis’s direction who looked a little fired up and worried in the way he sharply twisted and moved his hands and fingers as he signed. “He told me that it’s our turn to come up with a plan, the only thing we can do now is to try and outrun Sol Regem. He’ll improvise and act as a distraction, the more targets he has to chase, the more likely we are to make it out alive.”

“Sounds like the only viable option right now.” Rayla sighed reluctantly.

“Actually, there might be another way,” Callum suggested and Rayla expectantly leaned in. “We can’t hide from his senses, but maybe we could trick them, create a false appearance. After all, we can only know the appearance itself.” He tried to sound sagely.

“Now you’re starting to sound like Lujanne.” Rayla said dismissively, a hint that Callum missed.

“Wow, really?”

“That wasn’t a compliment.” Rayla elaborated.

“Here’s the idea,” Callum went on unfazed and probably deaf to her comments. “I could use my _Aspiro_ spell to blow my scent to a different place… like ventriloquism but with smells… _smelltriloquism_!” Callum looked excited by the idea, which was starkly contrasted with Rayla’s countenance.

“Uh,” she groaned holding her face in her hands.

“ _Vensmelloquism_!” Callum missed the point.

“It’s a stupid idea,” Rayla spilled it out for him, making Callum’s face fall. “But there might be something to it.” She conceded. That was enough for Callum to triumphantly shake his fist.

“Time is up!” Sol Regem roared, whipping his tail to fling and destroy a set of rocks that was closer to him. Thankfully, they didn’t hide there this time, but it didn’t stop the both of them from hugging their cover, with their backs twitching every single time Sol Regem roared.

“Give me your scarf!” Rayla insisted, as she handed Zym to him. “If I wear it, I’ll smell like you and I’ll draw his fire. Once he uses his blast, you and Zym make a run for it, while me and Francis keep him busy.”

“This is the worst idea you’ve ever had – he’s going to burn you to a crisp.” Callum complained.

“No, he won’t! I’m faster than him,” Rayla argued. “It’s our only chance.”

Callum reluctantly removed his scarf. “I haven’t bathed in two weeks, this should do the trick.” He rubbed the scarf against his armpits and handed it to Rayla. Judging by her sickened face and her gags and coughs, he was right – it didn’t smell particularly great. As she put it on, she gave him an unimpressed glare… to say the least. Unlike Callum, she had the longer bits on her front.

“Here goes nothing.” Rayla said decidedly, mustering up the courage to face the Archdragon.

Callum, perhaps making an excuse in his head, went up to her to fix her scarf. To be fair, the Katolis red looked good against her green outfit… all he wanted to do was to wish her luck or say some words of encouragement, but when he looked up from the scarf to her face his mind went completely blank. They locked eyes and just… stared silently at each other. With his ability to speak gone like the wind, all Callum did was smile. After whatever that moment was, Rayla abashedly pulled away, scratching her arm.

The roar of Sol Regem, who finally found which rock they were hiding behind, brought them back to the matter at hand. With a quick exhale she was gone.

* * *

Rayla’s heart was already racing way before she took off, for several reasons… and not all were related to the problem at hand, but whatever didn’t concern the Archdragon was gone in an instant. She looked for different covers and obstacles that would break the line of sight and searched for those that were of affordable distance to travel between, lest she be completely exposed to the fire attack. She was wondering how Francis was going to make this more difficult for Sol Regem… well she was about to find out.

“Hey, Sol Regem, you great big oaf!” She heard him shout, making her jaw drop. He really could sometimes completely drop his tactful and gregarious pretence, just like that… and apparently it didn’t matter who was on the end of his harsh words.

“Who dares to speak to me like that?” Sol Regem halted and turned to the side where Francis’s voice came from.

“Yours truly,” Francis replied unconcerned by the size of the Archdragon.

“I recognise that voice…” Sol Regem’s voice was pensive.

“Yep, we’ve had a little run-in a few weeks ago, when I was exiting Eastern Xadia.” Francis reminded him.

“No one but you calls it that…” Sol Regem sneered as he finally remembered their interaction. “The fact that you’re alive is impossible!” Rayla tensed at those words. Did Francis already face him in a fight?

“You’ll have to do better than that,” Francis smirked. “It takes more than some jagged rocks and a few slams to kill me.” Rayla finally pieced it together, as she remembered Villads’s comment.

“You were torn into pieces! You were supposed to bleed out!” Sol Regem spat.

“I guess it’s up to me to decide, whether I die or not.” Francis boldly claimed.

Rayla was left even more shocked and had to quickly doublecheck to ensure that what she was seeing was true. Francis’s sword remained sheathed behind his back. He nearly died from facing Sol Regem! Perhaps he was trying to avoid a fight? No matter, it was clear he still bounced back and courageously faced him again! He was doing it for the right reasons, she considered and hoped.

Sol Regem had a different opinion on the matter. “You are a fool for returning…”

“Well, I’m just trying to do a good thing here… just keeping an eye on you, since you can’t really do that yourself.” Francis shot. “I see you’re being mean to my friends and I don’t appreciate that one bit.”

Rayla finally exited her stupor, she should have started to make her way across, using rocks as cover from the fire attacks. Did Callum make it, already? She looked around and there he was, safe and sound way in the distance behind the dragon. Maybe if Francis could keep talking, then she wouldn’t have to test her speed against the swallowing fire?

“Today will be a day of regrets.” Sol Regem threatened. “You’re going to regret speaking like that to me and I’m going to make you regret coming back.”

“I doubt it.” Francis unexpectedly continued his bold approach, as clouds greyed over his head and a vicious blizzard blinked in his eyes. “Hurting my friends is the quickest, most direct path to me and the surest way of getting on my bad side… and trust me, I only get nasty if I have to. You’ll be the one regretting for messing with my friends!” Francis said coldly, with bone chilling and piercing stare.

Rayla wasn’t exactly sure how he even had the chance to salvage anything from his much underpowered position, but he always had unexpected ways of getting into people’s heads, even in the most unwinnable of situations.

Sol Regem on the other hand didn’t take his threat seriously. “You cannot hurt me.” His cackle vibrated around the entire canyon, even rattling Rayla’s core, but Francis looked unfazed. He really seemed determined to be the cloud that covered this sun.

“Well, you see I’ve been travelling Eastern Xadia for four years prior to our little encounter,” Francis spoke with an element of smugness and pride. “I know a couple of elves who are well established in their societies. Imagine what kind of a laughing stock you’ll become when they tell everyone that you, the great and mighty Sol Regem, let anyone and everyone pass through the border, even humans.” Francis ploughed through without remorse. “Maybe then they’ll be sensible enough to hire a patrolling guard who can actually see and is not inert or senile for most of the day. I know you’re a bit thick, but I’m hinting to you that you need to retire… but then doing that will make you completely irrelevant.” Francis put his hands behind his back and watched Sol Regem breathe heavily, rage spreading through his body like wildfire. Francis continued in a way less insulting tone. “I, of course, am a man of principle. I don’t hurt anything for no reason, only retaliation. So let everyone pass safely, and I won’t tell anyone a thing.”

“You are going to regret your words once I’m done with your human friend.” Sol Regem said in spite of everything.

“Alright then,” Francis casually unsheathed his sword, his head darting around to take in the surrounding area. “I guess you chose social suicide, as well as tarnishing your career prospects and public image of a protector of Xadian borders. Unless of course you want to kill me… you know, make sure no word gets out.” Francis knowingly suggested.

“You are weak and you foolishly revealed your weaknesses.” Sol Regem cackled. “Before I move onto you, you are going to watch your friend die, knowing that his life is fully on your conscience, suffering as a result… and I’m going to enjoy every bit of watching it unfold.”

Rayla felt the heated stomping close in on her. Their conversation ended as abruptly as it started. Rayla abandoned her second attempt at sneaking around and instead ran in the opposite direction of Callum and Francis. She was planning to loop around, avoiding Sol Regem’s paws that wanted to squish her, dodge the fire breath and it was home run from there on out. It should have been easy, right?

* * *

Francis failed… Sol Regem caught onto the fact that Francis prioritised his friends’ safety and that there was no way he would leave them. Essentially, as long as Sol Regem prevented Rayla from crossing over to their side, Francis was stuck with Sol Regem. They tried everything: sneaking, reasoning, threatening… well, unfortunately it was time for fists to be thrown. It was a shame it had to come down to that again.

Francis needed Sol Regem to focus on him… or at the very least be as much of a nuisance to him as humanly possible. So as soon as Sol Regem turned back to chase Rayla, Francis threw caution and instincts of self-preservation to the breeze of the canyon and chased after the Archdragon, ignoring the stiffness of his right side. Francis was plunging himself straight into the eternal firepit.

No one… absolutely no one in their right mind would tell you to come anywhere close to an angry Archdragon so tall, that it could give the Katolis towers a run for its money. But in order to help a close friend out, sometimes one needed to ignore reason and play unexpectedly boldly… and this was Francis and his strong-will, after all. His cold ruthless demeanour was resolute on putting out the incandescent light in the beast’s belly.

Francis wasn’t usually known for his speed, but it seemed that the Archdragon was no better… and when it truly mattered Francis was always able to kick his inner reservoir up a notch. When he got close enough, Francis gripped his sword like a javelin or a trident. He recalled the Tidebound elves’ teaching.

_Others give us strength, their sum forever greater than yours alone. So why are you doing this?_

_To protect Rayla and the Team._

_Then remain strong in your convictions, for only when you are calm, confident and are concentrating, shall your actions find a successful outcome. If you do not believe in yourself or others, then the trident will never reach its target._

He zoned it on Sol Regem’s back leg. He exhaled and threw the sword, unleashing all of his hidden ice burning fury into it. It was no Tidebound elf trident, but it did the job, as the blade sunk into Sol Regem’s back leg. He stopped and groaned at the inconvenience… yeah, that tiny cut wasn’t particularly effective when you compared it to the rest of the body, but as long as he wasn’t on top of Rayla, it was worth it.

Francis grabbed the sword and pulled it out as quickly as he could. He just about didn’t overstay his welcome as he rolled backwards out of the way of the kicking paw, but Francis wasn’t done there. After the paw, Sol Regem’s tail came immediately from above. Francis jumped to the right, but his feet got clipped by the stomping tail, sending him downwards onto that right side, harder than anticipated.

It smashed into the ground, sending a shooting pain around the entire right hip. Francis managed to hold back a pained growl and got up immediately. He sliced at the tail and it, in reflex, flung him into the rocks next to him, hitting his right side again. It crashed even harder than before, making his right leg twitch and his hand shoot to it from the pain when he landed.

This time Francis couldn’t stop himself in time from holding back his voice, as a cry momentarily escaped his lips. He tried to get up, but his body didn’t let him, as it still scrambled itself back together from the shock of the pain. He laid there motionless for a little while, as the sounds were muted. He could gather by the ground’s vibration that Sol Regem chased after Rayla, leaving him there to recover. That was going to leave a mark, he thought to himself. He really needed to have something to treat his right side, but unfortunately he had nothing anymore.

Biting his tongue, he tried to get up, but couldn’t… not before he used his sword as support to at least get on his knees. Immediately he trained his eyes on Rayla, who looped around and was heading back, sprinting as fast as she could. Francis didn’t want her to notice that he was hurt and quickly got up, despite the stiff pain. He hurriedly went back in Callum’s direction with a huge effort to conceal an undeniable limp. He wondered how much would he have to hide it, before the pair would notice it. He wondered how long would his body be able to keep going before it held him back too much. He tried not to think about it – others were in grave danger.

Francis looked over his shoulder to check on Rayla… and his eyes went wide in horror. Rayla ran over an unpleasantly open space and Sol Regem’s entire neck was lit up in a fiery yellow colour – he was ready to unleash the fire breath. “Look out!” Francis shouted.

“You humans are foolish!” Sol Regem said, before opening his jaws and unleashing the enraged fire.

Francis could only watch and pray, that Rayla would be able to outrun the gruesome death, his mind out there with her, feeling what she was going through. He could imagine the resistance of the ground below her, as her feet came in contact. He could feel the heat closing in on her. He could feel the sweat trickle down from her forehead and drop from her face… and then he felt her foot suddenly go weak and her body jerk quickly forward… she just had to slip. Francis’s heart nearly burst in anticipated grief, as his breath shuddered. He pushed her, screamed at her in his mind to get up… and she hadn’t given up. She quickly scrambled back on her feet and just managed to duck around the corner of the canyon’s wall.

Francis’s heart pounded, deafening the world around him and he heavily panted just as much, if not more than Rayla. She looked to the side and Francis followed her eyes – she was checking on Callum and Zym. They were opposite the arch, third from Rayla, away from the commotion. She breathed a sigh of relief, but she shouldn’t have been thinking that she was done there. Francis’s sharp eyes sprung back to Rayla, she hid underneath a thin, weak arch and after all the noise it wasn’t going to hold… the rocks were coming down on top of her.

“Heads!” Francis warned of the incoming doom.

Rayla hugged the wall. It was too late to escape. The last thing Francis saw was Rayla putting her hands up as a last form of defence before the dust and rocks covered her. Maybe she wasn’t just crushed to death, maybe she was just trapped?

“Please be fine. Please be fine. Please be fine. Please be fine,” Francis whispered to himself. The knocking… it returned. It was hitting impatiently in his head, the intensity exponentially rising with every millisecond Rayla didn’t appear from underneath those rocks. “I’ve lost too much, I don’t want to lose you too. I don’t want to lose my best chance…”

Rayla’s head and torso surfaced after what felt like painfully slow seconds, but she was stuck and Sol Regem was approaching her with overbearing disdain… at least due to only being able to smell, he still hadn’t realised that he trapped an elf and not a human.

Francis’s mind kicked into overdrive. He found himself half-way between Callum and Rayla. His instincts wanted him to run out and help her, but he was just about able to stop himself. Too many things were now in balance; improvising was not an option. He would get exposed and could easily die if he didn’t have a plan in mind, which would be less than ideal… counterproductive, in fact.

Sol Regem was closing in on the trapped Rayla. He was almost in her face. Francis needed to buy time… hold him off… distract him somehow. There! An elevation! He could stage his act from there. There was nothing that could help him hide though. It was the last thing he noted when he got there, Rayla’s and Callum’s safety firmly at the forefront of his mind.

“Oi, you big ugly brute!” Francis made Sol Regem’s head turn towards his podium. “Since you’ve got Callum trapped, it’s time to move onto me.” Francis boldly teased. “I’m still free and can easily escape.”

“You won’t leave him behind,” Sol Regem sneered. “Besides, fighting you won’t be a challenge and I won’t enjoy it. Not as much as knowing how much suffering you’ll endure when you watch your friend die.”

“I see, you’re scared. I guess it would be a bit too easy for me to fight you as is, wouldn’t it? I should give myself a challenge to make it interesting.” Francis didn’t show any tremble or panic in his voice even at the simple thought of Rayla or Callum dying, covering it up with a pompous tone that teetered on the edge of foolhardiness. The more ridiculous the challenge, the more likely it would insult and make Sol Regem switch his attention on Francis, even if it was only for a second. “I’ll close my eyes then, you know, to even the playing field… and I bet you I still wouldn’t break a sweat!”

“Even after I’ve hit you, you still choose death.” Sol Regem turned to Francis and took a step in his direction, outraged by the suggestion. “Who do you think you are?”

“Hi, I’m Francis, I’m no one special. I’m just really bad at giving up.” Francis said, twirling his sword in his hands.

“I overpower you! I’m hundreds of times bigger than you are! I possess magic! You’re just a simple human!” Sol Regem shook the ground with his fiery fury.

“Hm, I like those odds.” Francis was adamant.

“Your hubris will be your downfall,” Sol Regem stomped towards Francis.

“Remember this, Sol Regem: I’m crazy, but I’m not mad. I will not budge,” Francis announced. “In fact my eyes are already closed.” And they were.

Francis lowered his head in concentration. There were many things he felt turn on and off in quick succession… disturbances, heightened reactions, feelings that told of different presences. There were three it total, obviously, but the power of their presence varied – two were more present than the third one. At first, he tried to look deep inside of him, thinking that due to unfamiliarity Sol Regem’s aura would be harder to reveal… but in doing so it revealed two auras. They were utterly confused and sitting in uncomfortably tense anticipation, in complete fear and Francis’s life was the subject of it.

Realising they were his friends, Francis instead focused on the external stomping that was near him, isolating the hard to grasp aura. He needed to grab it just for a moment, so that he could predict its movement… There! A spiteful, hating and enraged aura. Despite the animosity of those pulsating emotions, Francis’s focus quivered. He still couldn’t entirely lock onto it… yet he could feel that something was off. He wasn’t the target… he heard Sol Regem roar in the opposite direction. Did he not accept the…

_Duck!_

Francis hit the ground quicker than he ever did in his life, as the tail whipped overhead. The Archdragon tried to trick him… or maybe he actually underestimated him that much that he thought he would be able to do this without entirely focusing on him.

“I felt an extremely light breeze pass through my hair,” Francis jibed. “Is that really the best you could do? The canyon’s breeze ruffled my forelock more than your tail whip did!”

In retrospect he maybe shouldn’t have done that. He was in unknown territory here and being able to keep a prolonged focus on a specific aura was already difficult enough and required immense amounts of attention. He hadn’t been able to focus consistently even in the calmest circumstances and here he was in a life or death situation… and not just him. Speaking just didn’t help. Though in truth, he wasn’t looking inside himself anymore… he was mostly relying on the outer world and how everything placed and interacted in it and what was immediately around him. The vibrations of the ground; the sound of heavy breathing; the airways, that suddenly moved in an upper direction; the warmth of the sunrays, that suddenly disappeared…

Francis jumped backwards and his suspicions were confirmed, as Sol Regem’s tail slammed just in front of him. Another mental note to yet again thank the training of the Tidebound elves, for looking for connections and deeper meanings in them, and the Earthblood elves’ training and their insistence on focusing on the nature.

Francis heard Sol Regem roar again… and again in the opposite direction. Francis still wasn’t the focus, despite everything he tried. Big powerful Archdragons were really just unbearably stubborn and pretentious sometimes. With that Francis opened his eyes, to see what Callum and Rayla were doing and where they were… but he froze when he saw that Rayla was still stuck.

* * *

Callum mirrored the shocked expression on Rayla’s face when they both realised that Francis was being serious and that he actually closed his eyes. That shock however had to quickly be put on the backburner, as Callum felt Zym’s tail coil tightly in fear around his neck in place of his scarf. The Dragon Prince whimpered as his eyes flicked between Sol Regem and Francis. Callum and Rayla both knew that Francis was buying them time and they had to come up with something.

Rayla continued to fruitlessly struggle against the fallen rocks. She required someone else’s hand to get her out. Callum couldn’t come anywhere close to her, because the Archdragon despite Francis’s taunts still faced Rayla. Callum saw panic rise in Rayla’s eyes, face and body movements with every fleeting second. They didn’t have eternity to spare. She looked at Callum, hoping he had something.

Trying his best to ignore the prevalent nail biting feeling Callum had deep down in his stomach, knowing what Francis was doing, he looked around. He saw a low arch opposite him. An idea sprung in his head, as Callum judged Sol Regem’s horns. It could work! _Smelltriloquism_ should have totally been on their plan!

Callum signalled Rayla to throw the scarf. She only looked back at him in deep confusion. Maybe she couldn’t understand him. So Callum drew the _Aspiro_ rune and motioned for Rayla to throw the scarf. Now she seemed to have picked up the message! She threw the scarf just as Callum blew, controlling the wind’s pathway with his hands.

“Run!” Callum heard Francis, who clearly figured it out, yell to trick Sol Regem… and he sure fell for it.

He chased after the scarf that went carefully through the archway. Callum pulled the airways up, so that the scarf wouldn’t get burned by another fire breath Sol Regem expelled. When Sol Regem tried to rise he found his horns and neck were stuck and constricted by the archway. He roared and thrusted his body around in anger, trying to escape. A scene that the Team would find amusing, given time, but right now they could be proud of the brilliant coordination they produced. Callum and Francis both ran towards Rayla, to help her out of the debris.

“Callum, you absolute beauty!” Francis complimented Callum’s quick thinking, as they both pushed the constricting rocks off of Rayla.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? That was too close!” Callum fired off.

“Relax, I’m only slightly singed,” Rayla calmed him down, before following Francis suit. “Great thinking with aspiro!”

“I mean, Francis did great with his distracting monologue, it bought us time.” Callum clearly tried to fit in.

“Sometimes, unfortunately, I do attract unnecessary amount of attention.” Francis made fun of himself. “Although, you’ve got to give credit to Rayla and her bravery. Risky, but great athleticism!”

“Like you’re the one who plays safe all the time.” Rayla deadpanned, clearly not happy with the risks Francis took. To be fair, Callum’s heart also didn’t appreciate it, whether Francis had to or not. Then again Rayla wasn’t the one to speak about taking unnecessary risk… none of them were, to be fair.

“I guess I rub off on people in different ways.” Francis correctly pointed out.

“I guess we all just lost a few years of our life expectancy.” Callum remarked.

“Neither me nor Rayla had a lot to start with as warriors.” Francis conceded. Their friendly chat was broken up by yet another one of Sol Regem’s angry roars. The arch wouldn’t hold the Archdragon forever.

“Come on, let’s get out of here before too close becomes too late.” Rayla urged.

Without any more words the three of them ran away from Sol Regem. Well… not for long anyway.

“Callum, where’s your scarf?” Francis asked.

“I left it on our way.” Callum said and sure enough it was right in front of them.

“Thanks for letting me borrow it,” Rayla was ahead, so she was the one who picked it up. “I think it’s good luck.” She said as she put it on… and this time backwards, just like Callum always did!

The team slowed down as soon as they got comfortably far away and they all set their sights into Eastern Xadia… she did look really good in that red scarf against the background of the green suit… and honestly, having the long bits forward suited her better…

* * *

The dynamite was all in place. It was enough to unleash the tonnes of rocks and lava that would seal The Breach forever. An open border conflict ended in reluctance in order to cut the losses and prevent an attack into Katolis. Commander Gren and Lieutenant Fen, who held a torch, anxiously waited for the word.

“ _Pull!_ ” General Amaya signalled for the soldiers to pull the cord.

They did… but it was too easy… and nothing happened. They felt that too. They continued to pull on the cord, until they were left staring at the cut end of it, still smoking. General Amaya frowned; it could’ve only meant one thing. That elf caught on. Just as General Amaya suspected, a proud figure of the elven commander appeared in the distance by the barrels of dynamite. Her maroon and golden armour glistened like the sun from the lava flow. She brandished her Sun Forge sword, cockily indicating the culprit behind the cut, as if it wasn’t obvious already.

“The trigger has been disabled! What do we do now?” Lieutenant Fen asked looking lost at General Amaya.

“Someone has to go out there and set them off.” Commander Gren immediately translated her signs. “I…” Gren trailed off in shock. “I’ll do it myself,” he finished as General Amaya got up on her horse. She rode to Lieutenant Fen to gather his torch. “But, Amaya,” Commander Gren stopped her, just before she was about to ride in. It was probably the first time he hadn’t referred to her by her rank in public. “You won’t survive.”

“ _The rest of you will_.” She signed back to him and gave a farewell smile. Their survival was all that mattered.

She threw her gaze back onto her target, as she galloped towards her. They locked eyes from afar. It was going to be yet another rematch… and this time it would be just the two of them. They were equally skilled fighters, but now however General Amaya knew all of her tricks.

The horse jumped over the Sunfire’s head, but it didn’t stick the landing. Tumbling off to the side General Amaya dropped the torch into the lava below. There it went, her only way of setting off the explosion gone… or was it the only one?

She quickly got up, getting her shield out, since the sword would just be cut off bit by bit with her opponent’s Sun Forge sword anyway. General Amaya eyed the hot burning blade she was charged with. It may have been extremely effective in cutting her sword and wearing down her shield, an advantage during any encounter, but General Amaya was about to expose it tactically as a situational weakness. See, without using a sword, their fight got really close and personal. Using the gap in the shield, General Amaya forced the sword out of the elf’s hands and then flung her backwards.

The elf did not take kindly to her errors, she was fuming. Her skin lit up and turned molten red, as she let her anger boil into her stance. Her grimaced face and fiery yellow eyes stared dead into General Amaya’s, preparing to let everything out through the Sunfire form and pummel her. General Amaya however remained controlled, cool and collected. She wasn’t intimidated by it since after the first time, she was able to gather what kind of volatile rage this would bring out with each burning punch.

General Amaya knew that she was playing with fire, so she added more fuel to outplay the elf. She casually approached the horse that got up after the initial jump. She thought that it served her well and it could still serve someone else. She slapped its backside sending her galloping back to the fortress and past the elf. The elf breathed heavily, hardly able to contain the rage at the taunt. General Amaya wanted her to come to her, so she went a step further. She pointed to the Sun Forge sword and twirled it in her hand, in hopes that the elf would read it as a challenge. She did; the elf charged at her. It was never a sign of challenge; it was a sign of what she was about to do. General Amaya masterfully threw the sword straight into the furthest barrel of dynamite. The sword pierced the wood like knife through butter.

_Boom!_

Just before the shockwave of the explosion hit General Amaya, she put up her shield. She flew backwards, rolling a few times from the explosion. The shied bore the brunt of it and she remained unharmed. In a slight daze, she rose and looked back at the fortress on the other side. It would not fall and the soldiers were safe. The Breach had been sealed forever, a new lavafall now covered its path. The fortress may have stopped holding as much strategic purpose as it used to, but at least the soldiers could serve somewhere else and not shed blood over the only border with Xadia. They were now forever safe from the constant looming threat of the Sunfire elf attack.

With that being said, she wondered what happened to her opponent… and saw a familiar dark skinned hand, desperately clinging to the side with all of its four fingers. The elf survived, she just barely hung on, unable to pull up with her second hand. General Amaya looked at her. Despite being an elf, she was a great match throughout their encounters and a staunch and worthy protector of her own kind. She fought honourably and bravely.

General Amaya knelt and pulled her onto the safe and stable land. Her face was unreadable when she stood up straight and frankly General Amaya didn’t care what she would do next. Her glance however gave it away, as General Amaya turned to find two elves holding their swords up at her. She had nothing left to do, but to surrender and marking her first day as their prisoner.

* * *

Callum was left a little disappointed that Francis’s words were proven to be true. The canyon was a little bland and it seemed that the good stuff would only come tomorrow, since the sun was going down to its slumber. Zym’s tail affectionately curled around his neck that temporarily replaced his scarf. The dragonling was even cheeky and playful enough to tickle Callum’s neck and nose with the tail’s end. It was supposed to be a nice gesture, but all it did was remind of the loud absence of his little brother.

It might have been their first day in Eastern Xadia but it was also the first day since Ezran left them and went back to Katolis. He would have been going crazy over this canyon simply because it was Eastern Xadia. His giggling smile was sorely missed and Callum couldn’t help but worry. He hoped that with time some things would take the edge off of his mind; they needed to stay focused on the mission.

“There is the cave I stayed in the first time I crossed the border!” Francis vociferated pointing to it and bringing Callum out of his sad thoughts. “There’s the drop, little arch opposite it… It’ll feel like the good old times again!” He reminisced, as if he hadn’t only been there three and a half years ago. “Oh, oh, oh, you know about the cool thing that all these caves have, Rayla?”

  
“Cool thing?” Rayla looked like she had no clue.

  
“What?! You don’t know about the cool thing?” Francis was furious and clearly stoked to show them ‘the cool thing’. “Oh, you’re going to love this!” Francis was already engrossed and exuded excitement out of every single pore that fed even Rayla’s anticipation, despite being from Eastern Xadia. Callum could barely keep up with Francis’s wide strides.

  
“You’re worse than Rayla!” Callum jokingly remarked.

  
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Francis replied.

“I’m taking that as an insult!” Rayla glared at Callum.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Callum ducked his head.

“Let me remind you that I’m a master of pointy things!” Rayla puffed her chest.

“Your horns are pointy, I said that from day one.” Callum defensively raised his hands, hoping to deflect her words slightly. However he unintentionally made Rayla blush with his words.

“You better not forget that I’m the expert here!” She waved her finger at him.

“Shush your bickering, we’re here already!” Francis said impatiently, stopping them at the entrance of the cave.

“Well, what is...” Rayla started.

“Sssh!” Francis put his finger up to her mouth, then whispered. “If you’re an expert then how come you don’t know about this cool thing?” Francis told her with a victorious grin on his face. She stuck her tongue at him.

“This better be good!” She whispered back, unsure on why they needed to be quiet.

It looked like a normal dim cave, there were pale white flowers, some colourless see-through fungi on the walls and a few tiny and colourless wisps that floated around on the cave’s walls… and nothing really else. Francis urged them to stay at the entrance, as he ceremoniously moved to the centre of the cave. He spun around and dramatically raised his hands. He held them up for a little while... and finally clapped twice. The interior of the cave and the fungi lit up in warm light blue, which was contrasted with the flowers’ and bugs’ soft yellow colours.

“Woah!” Callum gawked, his mind completely taken off of anything that concerned him. How would he be able to shade this in his sketchbook?

“It’s so beautiful!” Rayla muttered, as she spun slowly around to take in the atmosphere. Zym was also impressed and his curiosity took over as he jumped off of Callum and yipped loudly. His tongue lolled out in excitement when he realised that he could make the flowers light up.

“Yes, the floral ecosystem and microorganisms of the cave react to vibrations and soundwaves.” Francis explained. “Basically if the volume is loud enough, they will light up. The best thing about them is that their light lingers for a while, but if any of you snore,” Francis’s narrow eyes rested on Zym. “I will have trouble falling asleep from the light. The lights dim slowly once it goes silent, but it usually takes a minute for that to happen though.” Francis’s eyes pondered on the flowers by his side. “If instead of you two I had a girl this would be really romantic,” Francis chuckled to himself. “Great place to go on a date, if you ignore the blandness of the canyon and a big angry old dragon if you’re crossing the border.”

“Why would any girl want to go with you?” Rayla made fun of him.

“I don’t know, not like I have anyone to tell me.” Francis humoured back though his smile flattened a little, a change that did not go entirely unnoticed by Callum and Rayla, leaving them a little anxious at the possibility of accidentally hitting a sore spot. Rayla was further concerned when his face finally went pensive as his sharp and pondering gaze suspended around her neck. She tracked his sight down… to Callum’s scarf.

“Oh, you should probably get this back.” Rayla went to remove Callum’s scarf.

“Oh, you can keep it for a bit if you want, I hadn’t even noticed it was gone.” Callum admitted.

“Honestly you look like a sheared sheep without your scarf on.” Francis mocked, making Callum a little flustered as he scratched the back of his head.

“Yeah, it’s a little weird,” Rayla snorted. “I’ve never seen you without your scarf off, so it’s hard for me to accept you without it. I’m surprised you forgot about it. How did you even manage that?”

“Well…” Callum went a little red.

“Red goes well with green.” Francis lead, pretty much speaking Callum’s mind.

“Huh?” Rayla didn’t pick up.

“It looks really, really good on you,” Callum finally managed to say, turning the same colour as his scarf.

“Oh, thanks,” Rayla looked coyly to the side, trying to hide her blushes. “But it’s yours, you should have it.” Rayla gingerly handed him back the scarf and Callum put it back on. After departing with it for a while he could feel the stink of sweat on it sting his nose again… and it was nearly enough to make him vomit.

“I guess it was a hard scent for Sol Regem to miss,” he coughed and gagged, getting a laugh out of Rayla… but not Francis. He eyes went cold and pensive.

Rayla and Callum both looked at Francis, waiting for him to say or do something, but all he did was look in between them. His look felt heavy, burdened by something… something he would be forced to be occupied with. It weighed down the air around them and bright and light atmosphere was lost way before the lights dimmed completely.

“You two have fun with this,” he finally uttered, sighing heavily, showing only a fraction of his previous light-hearted self. “I spent hours playing in this cave last time and it still hasn’t lost its magic for me. I’ll go enjoy the sunset.” His cape hugged his body as he passed them and went back out into the canyons. Zym rubbed between Callum’s and Rayla’s feet, looking concerningly in Francis’s direction.

“Should we?” Rayla looked at Callum.

“Give him space for now.” Callum replied.

“So what should we do then?”

“Have fun, as he said,” Callum sat down and petted Zym. “If I’m honest, it has been a long day.”

“Let’s entertain ourselves then!”

* * *

They talked and played with the cave’s interior for a very long time, taking turns in cuddling the tired Zym. They clapped, whistled, said random things, Rayla got to do her Human Rayla act again… basically, time was well spent. It was when they sat down that exhaustion really reminded itself to them. After all, a lot had happened today and they haven’t slept at all the previous night.

Their conversation about sweet all-important nothings grinded to a halt and they just sat looking at each other in silence, enjoying the quiet. It was so quiet that Callum could hear Rayla’s slow and steady breath, as her chest rose and fell accordingly. She stretched and ran her small four fingered hand through her white hair, carefully avoiding her horns.

Callum noticed that her smooth and backwards arching horns had a pretty pattern on them. It was weird he only paid attention to it now, since her horns were the subject of countless disputes when it came to height. Why were they so eye catching to Callum all of a sudden?

Her hand went down the side of her face and back on her knee. Those hands, naturally smaller than a human’s due to a missing pinkie, were deceptive in its size. Those hands could muster unbelievable feats of strength, one that Callum sometimes couldn’t comprehend, let alone come close to repeating.

He looked back up at her, only to be smitten. The lunar white hair now beautifully framed her heart shaped face, making it look so mind meltingly soft, that Callum found himself holding his breath. Was his heartbeat racing?

Callum felt a strange urge to tuck both strands of her beautiful hair behind her pointy ears; he wanted to be able to see her ears. He never felt anything special about anyone’s ears before, but then again not everyone had pointy and moving ears… not everyone was Rayla.

His eyes moved to her cheeks, where the two violet tattoos were. They didn’t look as sharp as Callum remembered them to be. They now looked like a pair of smooth crescent moons smiling to each other. Crowning the tattoos were her warm violet eyes, that were slowly becoming the brightest, most enticing thing in this cave… they fluttered at him.

Callum felt his heart pump uncontrollably, he was afraid that at best it would have been loud enough to be heard and at worst it would burst and jump out of his chest. He couldn’t help but gaze deeply into those eyes, forever if he could. All of a sudden all of the physical differences that previously were supposed to make Callum anxious, were now the things that attracted his eyes and mind like a magnet. The horns… the pointy ears… the four fingers… such unusual eye colour to a human being that shone so brightly in this very dim cave…

“Callum,” she said unusually quiet, not even making the cave light up. Her shining eyes fell coyly to the side. “Why are you staring at me?”

Callum’s eyes widened; he totally was. _Because you’re beautiful… because I’ve never actually met someone like you before… you were staring at me too,_ Callum heard his heart answer, but he didn’t say any of those things. He hesitated, something in his mind stopped him and slowed him down… maybe even someone. “Rayla,” he broke the flustering long silence. “I’m so glad that you’re alive. I was really worried back there.” He opted to speak the partial truth running on his mind.

“Me too,” Rayla replied, gingerly tucking a strand of hair behind her twitching ear. Callum couldn’t quite see well in the dark of the cave, but he could have sworn that he saw a blush on Rayla’s cheeks. She cleared her throat. “I’m glad your idea worked… and that you weren’t flattened or burned by a big angry Archdragon.” She chuckled, clearly deflecting the irony of her words.

“I wasn’t the one at risk of that happening.” Callum correctly pointed out.

Rayla only shrugged her shoulders and everything fell into silence again. The only thing that prevented it from being a complete one, were the adorable little snores that Zym produced.

Callum, hoping to avoid a shipwreck of fluster on his behalf, opted to glance at her teal and black assassin suit. She was an assassin, wasn’t she? She was supposed to kill his little brother. Somehow that felt like such a long time ago, that it felt like it belonged to a different life.

Rayla tilted her head backwards and bent her other knee. Her movement looked languorous to Callum, then again he felt his movement were slower than usual too. They were so slow in fact, that his mind didn’t register how his lips parted slightly and how his head tilted.

It was a blissful silence, for once they weren’t staring death in the eye and for once they weren’t moving at a neck breaking speed. The world for once mercifully slowed down, treating him… and probably her too, to this serene moment. A moment where Callum could gather his thoughts and feelings and not put them aside for later because a blind Archdragon was breathing fire down their necks… or something else was going wrong and threatening their lives, their mission.

It was nice, peaceful and quiet, unlike his last two weeks have been. He wished that this moment could last forever, that he and Rayla didn’t have to go back out of the cave, that they didn’t have to get Zym back to his mother. The whistling of the wind outside felt very distant and lulling, as the darkness of the cave felt warm and cradling and Callum avoided closing his eyes in case he fell asleep listening to the silence. Even Zym stopped snoring, it was perfect…

“Have you noticed anything weird?” Rayla suddenly broke the silence, lighting up the cave. It was so sudden that Callum felt like he was woken up with a bucket of ice cold water.

 _Yes, yes I noticed… I have a weird feeling down in the cockles of my heart and the pits of my stomach,_ was what he replied in his mind… but he wasn’t brave enough to say any of it out loud. He truly didn’t mind any of what was going on, yet something constantly nagged in his mind, something that stopped him from fully appreciating his feelings. “Not really no,” Callum chose to say.

“It’s really quiet,” Rayla pointed out.

“How is that a bad thing?” Callum asked.

“It’s too quiet,” Rayla tilted her head in the direction of the cave’s exit, her ear trying to hone in on any source of disturbance. “Usually, when we break camp there is one loud individual who cracks jokes and tells amusing stories about his life and adventures across Xadia.”

Callum’s eyes widened and he too looked out to the exit. They had totally forgotten about Francis. “He said he was going to enjoy the sunset,” Callum recalled… it could as well have been the middle of the night out there. His mind really didn’t want him to get up, but he couldn’t just sit here and do nothing. “I’ll go and check on him. He probably just fell asleep out there, it has been a stressful few days for him.”

“Have you ever seen him doze off though?” Rayla doubted. “I’ve only seen him go to sleep for the first time two nights ago.”

Callum stopped in his tracks. “Now that you mention it, I’ve never heard him say the word ‘tired’ in reference to himself. He’s always so upbeat and unendingly energetic,” Callum said pensively.

“Yeah,” Rayla agreed. “But do you remember how he left the cave?”

Callum did remember, as soon as they mentioned Sol Regem, Francis’s face strained instantly. Could there be something off about Francis? Eventually Callum shook his head. “It’s Francis, nothing bad could ever happen to Francis,” he brushed off. “Maybe he decided to stay and look at the stars?” He suggested.

Rayla didn’t reply; she couldn’t. She only sighed and didn’t hold Callum back any longer.

* * *

Callum exited the cave and immediately found Francis, just around the corner. He laid with his back against the hill and his hands rested over one of his knees, with the other leg stretched out. He definitely wasn’t asleep. In fact, there wasn’t a hint of exhaustion on his face, as his eyes stared up far into the distance, making him look almost detached. Despite him being right in front of Callum and having one of the most expressive and brightest presences about him, his body weirdly dissolved into the black canvas of the night, like he was not entirely there.

“Hey, Callum,” he said without looking, suddenly his presence returning as if at will.

“How did you know that I’m here?” Callum asked.

“When you spends a long time on your own, you can feel when your loneliness is disturbed by another presence.” Francis said sagely, then added. “And you have louder footsteps than Rayla does.”

Callum only shook his head in response. “We lost you,” Callum explained his presence.

“Took you long enough,” Francis joked, looking at him. His eyes shone as bright as the stars in the sky and the corners of his smile went up like a fine precise stroke of painter’s brush. “Would you like to join?”

Callum nodded and sat down beside him. “I keep finding you alone just staring into the distance,” Callum spoke. “Awake when I’m about to go to sleep and awake when I wake up. What are you doing?”

“Just alone with my thoughts, reflecting and enjoying the view… the peace and quiet.” Francis replied. “You as an artist should know that feeling.”

“I guess I do,” he looked up at the night sky and although the moon wasn’t fully gone, you could still see countless arrays of stars dotted above them. They looked so far away and so tiny. Yet no matter how much of an insignificant sized dot it was, you still knew it was there, because it still shone. “They really are not that different…” Callum said, clearly enticed by the openness of the sky.

“Well, in looks, yes; they are the same,” Francis switched on his scholarly tutor mode. “Xadian constellations however are named differently and have a bit of a different story behind it.”

“Can you tell me about it?” Callum jumped at the opportunity.

“I’ll leave that up to Rayla,” Francis forced Callum to wait. “Word of advice, just prepare for a lot of Garlath.”

“Who’s that?”

“Ask Rayla,” he deflected again.

Callum sighed defeatedly and went back to stargazing. They spent a little while sitting in silence, before Callum noticed that he was shivering a little. There was nothing around them that trapped the warmth, so he decided to suffer. However a certain someone’s attentive eyes could never have been avoided.

“You look cold, buddy, let me make you something.” Francis responded to Callum’s shivering.

“Something hot? We’ll need to make a campfire for that.” Callum remarked.

“No need. Give me your flask.” Francis indicated with his fingers. Callum handed over his flask and watched Francis put some leaves in it and shake it. “These leaves, Camellia Sinensis, can be a lifesaver in travelling, only hardcore roadmen know about them,” he shared his knowledge. “But they are fairly common and easy to find, if you know where to look.”

He handed the flask back to Callum, who immediately noticed that the flask was beginning to warm up. “Why is the flask so warm?”

“You see, when these leaves contact with water they produce an exothermic reaction,” Francis explained.

“Exo… what reaction?” Callum inquired.

“Exothermic,” Francis repeated and put a hand over his heart. “Forgive my scholarly ways, but it’s basically a cleverer and shorter way of saying that the reaction produces heat or energy. That’s why you need to look for them under trees, shrubs or caves. Somewhere where the water and rain can’t reach so easily. The leaves dissolve giving rich flavour and heat up the drink whilst simultaneously killing off any nasty stuff in the water. Meaning that you can even use the water from river and you’d be fine. It can also be a very good disinfectant.”

“It tastes like the Hot Brown Morning Potion,” Callum pointed out as he drank… and there and then he understood that nagging feeling in his head, he understood what or rather who was holding his mind back.

Francis looked at him puzzled by the meaning of those words. “Well, this is a Hot Transparent Brown Black Any-time of Day Potion, more commonly known as…” he paused for dramatic effect. “… tea.” Callum blinked at him, somehow after two long days he still had the energy to be jokey and entertainingly dramatic. How did he possess so much energy? Francis continued. “By the way, what’s this Hot Brown Morning Potion thingy?”

“It’s a drink that was made by… someone I used to know.” Callum’s shoulder sagged.

“Used to?”

“It’s just…” Callum trailed off, unsure of how exactly to put his distress into words. “I’m not sure if I know her anymore…”

“Why is that?”

“It’s because of the choices she made; the actions she took, that I thought she wouldn’t be able to do.” Callum explained. He shook his head and held it in his hands. “I made a mistake; I misjudged her.”

“Aah, Claudia… that girl you had a crush on.” Francis deduced.

“What? Wait… I didn’t…” Callum stuttered. Francis stopped him by putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Callum, you are not good at keeping your feelings totally hidden.” He told him and Callum flinched in response. “This isn’t the first time you react like this, when I say those words.” He pointed out.

“You sound like my father… did,” Callum confessed.

“I see,” Francis’s hand dropped to the side. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Callum insisted. He let a silence sit there for a second. “I feel like I don’t know her anymore at all, just because of the choices she made.”

Francis unsheathed his sword and placed the hilt in Callum’s hand. “This exquisite and masterfully crafted sword was my grandfather’s before it was given to me. You see the inscription on the hilt?” Francis pointed to it. “My grandfather had it written, it’s in Ancient Draconic, it says ‘Quod Sumus Eligere’.”

“Why in Ancient Draconic?”

“I’m not too sure if I’m honest. It’s a secret he took with him before I got to ask about it.” Francis swallowed, as his eyes went melancholic.

“So what does it mean?” Callum sipped his tea.

“We are what we choose.”

“Meaning…?”

“That we are defined by our actions.” Francis explained. “I’m not sure if I fully agree with it, perhaps our choices are the most accurate definitions and representations of ourselves, but they can be misinterpreted.” Francis took back his sword and sheathed it. “People are sometimes misguided and pressured, so they do not always make the most well-thought out decisions. Frankly, we may not know what drove those decisions or if they were truly theirs in the first place, if it was forced or if they were manipulated.”

“I shouldn’t have idealised her,” Callum beaten himself up. “If only I could persuade her that we were on the same side. If only I knew better.”

“You’re a clever lad, Callum, but don’t be so harsh on yourself. You never had a chance.” Francis told him bluntly. “I’m sure you still know Claudia, she may just be lost.”

“Maybe,” Callum relaxed. “I hope she finds her way back, because it’s only up to her to do so.”

“That’s right,” Francis put a hand around his shoulder, then quickly changed the subject. “I mean, you are an artist, so I’m not surprised that you have an eye for beauty. Two for two.”

“What do you mean?” Callum’s head twisted around in panic, feeling that he was about to get totally exposed.

“Callum, what did I say about keeping your feelings totally hidden.” Francis snorted. “Rayla may not sense it, but I certainly see that you like her.”

“How can you even know that?” Callum shook his head, feeling like nothing could ever be hidden from Francis.

“Callum, I’ve told you before: when I look at you, it’s like sometimes I’m looking in a mirror.” Francis smiled. “I fancied girls in my life before. Struggle, be it military or other, has taught me about the importance of analysing even the smallest of details – every little movement counts. In my spare time I’ve paid close attention to other people’s idiosyncrasies and mannerisms. Unlike you I can see from the side the smallest changes in the way you look, the way you move, speak. The slight tilt in your head when you look at her, the softness in your eyes, the way your fingers curl slightly or the gentle movement of your hands.” Callum suddenly felt totally exposed. He was learning things from Francis about himself that he never even noticed before. “Those and your recent sketches of her give you away quite a bit. Which, may I add, look better and more… alive than they used to. It’s not just a copy anymore.”

“Well,” Callum defeatedly hung his head. “Maybe I do.”

“I’m certain it’s a definite from your side.” Francis shook his head.

“I just feel weird. It doesn’t totally feel right. Am I moving on too quickly from Claudia?” Callum confessed.

“I don’t think so, considering what happened,” Francis said honestly. “Better move on quickly, than dwell on someone who betrayed you for too long.”

“And the timing…” Callum looked into the ground. “The mission, the war that may or may not start.”

“It’s up to you Callum, you do what you think is right by you, but I would take a chance, because you don’t want to miss out. You still have a life, even during the mission or war. You would be quite fortunate to have her more as just an acquaintance or a friend.”

“Why would that be the case?” Callum asked a little apprehensively.

“Well, it’s not like humans pale in comparison to elves when it comes to beauty. It’s just hard to find an elf that doesn’t hate humans. Trust me, I would know.” Francis chuckled settling any of Callum’s tensions aside.

“Is it that bad?”

“Quite so,” Francis reminisced. “I mean when I travelled incognito, there were a couple of beautiful elves that thought I was very polite and charming… and mysterious. But for all my good looks, I do have pretty significant issues. You know, no horns, no pointy ears and five fingers…” he pointedly waggled them at Callum. “There was one elf who mustered up the courage to invite me to spend time with her and I couldn’t quite find it within myself to say no and break her heart. She was brave and clearly cared, so standing her up could have been painful for her. Yet, I couldn’t leave her in the dark about my true nature either.” He chuckled, slapping himself in the face at the memory. “Let’s just say there was awkward silence for a while, but at the very least she didn’t tell anyone the fact that there was a human in town. She must’ve liked me a lot, not to tell on me.” Francis’s smiling rays for eyes looked to the side. “It would be a bit too embarrassing if everyone knew though, wouldn’t it? In fact, imagine the poetic irony, if she was unsuccessful on the romantic front and the first person she gets accepted by turns out to be a human. That would be even more embarrassing, I feel sorry for her now.”

“I don’t even know how it happened with Rayla,” Callum shook his head.

“Usually there is a reason for everything, but things sometimes just happen, be it love or anything else.” Francis told him. “It’s what we do about them that makes the difference. Take a tree for example, it grows seeds and those seeds have to wait. Any seed is at the mercy of the wind blowing at the right time, with the right force and in the right direction, which will carry them and hopefully plant them in a fertile ground from which new strong trees will sprawl. The question is: are you the seed or are you the wind?” Callum stared at him pensively. “I have a feeling I know which one you are, considering yesterday.”

“If I’m the wind, can I affect other seeds?” Callum asked.

“Absolutely, not excluding your own.” Francis pointed at him, hovering around his heart.

“What if Rayla doesn’t like me?” Callum’s chest caved in.

“Why do I always end up giving dating advise, when I myself am pretty useless at dating?” Francis said in exasperation.

“Wait, you’re telling me you are bad at dating people?” Callum stared at him wide-eyed.

“You can’t have everything in life, Callum.” Francis sighed. “I’ve never had a girlfriend. I got mostly ignored and rejected… once or twice. No one liked me back. And then when I went to Eastern Xadia, I’ve never really had a chance to fall in love with anyone, considering my physical shortcomings.” He glossed over his history quickly. “But hey, that doesn’t matter, you have your own pretty heart to worry about.”

“I just hope that she likes me,” Callum continued to worry.

“Oh yeah gee, I wonder if she likes you,” Francis spewed sarcasm. “It’s not like she hugged you after the Moonstone path or… I don’t know, stood by you and held your hand in front of Sol Regem, calling you her best friend…”

“Oh, you were there…”

“Incredible,” Francis waved his hands around and gently tapped Callum’s forehead with his index finger. “You’ve already managed to forget about my existence in that moment! Way before the past few hours!”

“You were far away and there was a massive dragon in front of us that I was more concerned with.” Callum defended weakly.

“Your puppy googly eyes and award winning heart-warming smile after her speech told me otherwise... and don’t even get me started on the whole scarf ordeal!” Francis ranted. “Tsk, young kids these days, can’t even see when one person likes another!”

“You’re only four years older than me!” Callum furiously pointed out.

“Exactly, that doesn’t change my point,” Francis remained unmoved. “You’re still young, a kid compared to me and you’re oblivious!”

“Do you really think she likes me that much?”

“Yes! Moonshadow elves are pretty reserved and private with their feelings and emotions, but to me, and other Moonshadow elves, it’s as obvious as a black smudge on a white paper!”

“Am I interrupting something?” Rayla appeared by the entrance, clearly set off by the raised volume of the discussion.

Callum shot straight up, blushing and panicking a little. “What? No!” He laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck. He really hoped their discussion was not coherent enough for her to discern the contents of it. “We aren’t doing anything special…” Callum was cut off by Francis, who pulled him down by his scarf.

“Just boys, being boys.” Francis deflected. “Care to join us?”

“I suppose I wouldn’t mind hearing boys being boys.” Rayla mused.

“Great, shuffle up,” Francis certainly couldn’t miss an opportunity to tease. It felt cruel to Callum. “There is plenty of space next to Callum,” Francis however served it both ways. “It’s a bit chilly, you certainly enjoyed his scarf earlier.”

“Like you said, it contrasts well with my green outfit…” Rayla blushed and stammered a little. “So, what were you discussing then?”

“I…” Callum began but he was cut off again.

“Well, did you know Callum was into astrology…” Francis jumped in.

“Into what again?” Rayla double checked.

“Ugh, stars,” Francis sounded clearly disappointed at having to explain that to Rayla. It seems he was the only strong believer in academics. “What do you think we are doing? We are stargazing…”

“No, we…” Callum was about to impulsively protest.

“You better have not told him everything!” She furiously pointed her finger at Francis.

“Hey, I kept my word,” Francis replied calmly, raising his hands. “I did not say a thing. I wouldn’t want you to get jealous.”

“I’m not jealous! I’m just,” Rayla stammered again and looked abashedly away trying to hide her flushed face. “I’m just annoyed.”

“It’s not a minor inconvenience for you, in fact that ‘annoyance’ is only actually jealousy!” Francis continued mercilessly.

“You should be very careful with your words, because I won’t hesitate to fight you if you keep this up.” Rayla threatened.

“Then I have nothing to be afraid of.” Francis put his hands behind his head. “See Callum, you are usually the one getting teased, but isn’t it fun to see Rayla get a taste of her own medicine. I’m sure Callum appreciates not being the centre of attention for once. I’m sure he thinks you’re cute and adorable when you’re getting teased.” Rayla crossed her arms and looked away in exasperation. Callum remained silent, blushing quite a bit. Francis clapped his hands. “Anyways, I need to get some sleep, so I’ll be leaving you two alone… again.” He said. He then whispered into Callum’s ear, as he was getting up. “By the way Callum, she’ll appreciate this from you. I’m certain of it.” He forced the bag with the tea leaves into Callum’s hands, pointing out. “It’s not the warmest of nights.”

Francis got up and headed back towards the cave, but just as he was passing Rayla, he put a hand on her shoulder and spoke to her. “See Rayla, I get just as excited as you are when I want to tell everything about the things I love,” he quickly shook his head in Callum’s direction. “Hey, see he’s all ears, bigger than yours now! He’s waiting for an Eastern Xadia astrology session delivered by professor Rayla.” Francis smirked as he walked away. His hurried exit felt a little off to both of them, as they exchanged looks, but didn’t say anything.

They stayed silent for a while longer and it made Callum uneasy. Why? They’ve been on their own before, sitting in silence as recently as a few hours ago. Why was it difficult and awkward now all of a sudden? Callum was brought out of his train of thought, when Rayla’s shoulder bumped with Callum’s. She was shivering.

“Hey, I’ve got some of these. This should make you warm.” Callum used the opportunity presented to him.

“I didn’t say I was cold…” Rayla somewhat objected.

“You look like it though, you could use a hot drink.” Callum insisted.

“What are these?” Rayla asked.

“Leaves that produce an exothermic reaction.” Callum managed to remember.

“A what reaction?” Rayla tilted her head and furrowed her eyebrows. “I have a feeling I need to draw my swords for this one….”

“It makes things warmer,” Callum quickly explained. “Please, I promise you’ll like it.”

Rayla snorted at his insistence, deciding to take his word for it. She let him handle the preparation process, as he repeated exactly what Francis showed him.

“You were right… I was a little cold.” She said as soon as she started sipping from the hot flask.

“Oh so you didn’t…” Callum’s face fell.

“No! No! I really like the drink. Where did you get that?” She quickly asked.

“I… um…” Callum stumbled, unsure if he should just tell her the truth.

“Francis gave you these, didn’t he?” She guessed.

“Yeah, he did.”

“Of course he did,” Rayla shook her head. “He’s worse than me, he can’t totally keep his mouth shut when it comes to all things Xadia. I should ask him where he got it from.”

“Well, he did tell me…” Callum proudly straightened his back.

“Oh, and where exactly?” Rayla asked.

“I’ll tell you, only after you tell me about the Xadian constellations.” Callum offered.

Rayla rolled her eyes at that, but her face was radiating anticipation. “Fine,” she obliged with a shining smile on her face that put the moonlight to shame.

Callum instantly looked up at the sky and soaked in her voice… Francis was right, there was a whole lot of Garlath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you were wondering or didn't know, the last part of the final scene is a reference to the whole stargazing skit they performed at SDCC 2019, which is a great skit. While we are at references, the entire cave ecosystem idea was inspired from DeeTheTeaDrinkingDragon's Chronicles of the Midnight Compass story, specifically where Callum and Rayla stay at The Cerulean Deer inn. Her story is very enjoyable and if you haven't read it yet, then I recommend that you do.  
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter and as you guessed more Rayllum (and Francis's teasing of Rayllum) to come in the next chapter.


	19. The Wind and The Seed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Zym were only three days away from Silvergrove and the worst seemed to be over. During their travelling, they got to finally set their eyes on the magical lands of Eastern Xadia, especially Callum who swooned over everything. However something was unsettling and worrying Francis, something that he felt could affect their mission.

_“Do it! She is lesser than us! It doesn’t deserve it!” She told him, as Francis had his sword raised preparing to strike it down. He looked into the orange eyes…_

_“I can’t!” Francis dropped the sword._

_“Pathetic!” She spat, hissing like a viper. “You’re a failure! We did everything for you and this is how you repay our hard work?!”_

_Francis held his head in his hands. The knocking… it was overbearing, barraging in his mind and trying to force its way in, even if it would send the door off of its hinges. “This is wrong! I refuse to make the blind and easy choice!” Francis hissed in retaliation, his eyes closed from the nauseating noise._

_“And look where has your ‘right’ led you!” She sneered._

_Francis opened his eyes. He was kneeling somewhere he didn’t recognise. It wasn’t a mountain, despite being of a rocky structure. He was high up, so high that he could see the clouds beneath him. With the orange sun peering into his back, a shadow ran over him. The knocking only got louder. Francis thought he was going to go deaf in a minute, in fact he could barely hear her speak anymore, but her words pierced right into his heart._

_“You’re destined to fail again and you will crawl back to us, praying that we will take you back,” she cackled. “Why would we need anyone who lets his followers die?”_

_Francis’s eyes widened. He saw two figures fall past him. They flashed by so quickly, Francis only saw lines. One of the lines were teal and black, the other blue. They formed two dots, holding onto each other… something red flapped on the blue dot… something akin to a scarf._

_Francis’s body faltered completely, caving in on itself and forming a ball. The knocking was screaming, roaring, slamming in his face, demolishing him entirely. This wasn’t real! They can’t be dead! Francis wailed in anguish, hoping to mask the battering of knocking in his head. He felt like he would go crazy, there was too much noise! He was bombarded with it! The screams! The knocking! The cackle! The eyes! And then… it all stopped, all at once._

_Surrounded in silent darkness, he could only feel the stone cold floor beneath him as a spotlight ran over him. It was a welcomed change from the overload of knocking. Nothing seemed to happen until the spotlight disappeared plunging him into total darkness and then… Francis heard the door open._

* * *

Francis’s eyes shot wide open, as he quickly inhaled through his nose. His heart was beating uncontrollably, underneath his crossed arms. Francis uncrossed his legs and let the breathing and heartrate settle, scratching his eyes at the same time.

He was still in the cave and the sunrise greeted him through the entrance. There wasn’t any knocking, she wasn’t here and Rayla and Callum were still alive by his side. Francis wanted to get up, but felt unusually constricted by his shoulders. When he thought that Callum and Rayla were beside him, they were actually physically right beside him. Their heads were lolled onto his sore shoulders, seeming to find it perfectly stable and soft. They must have subconsciously crawled up to him in the night to seek warmth, after all the cave couldn’t trap the heat forever.

Francis sighed. There was always a catch, a caveat with being in this team. You always had to deal with some unusual things that required unconventional approaches… then again, this entire team and situation wasn’t exactly normal either. A leader must fit, adapt and do what he must in order to maintain its team of followers. Besides, Francis just couldn’t do anything he wanted, since he wasn’t on his own anymore.

Francis exercised as subtle and gradual movement as he could manage to slide from beneath their heads. He carefully made sure that Callum’s head would roll onto Rayla’s shoulder, lest he would be poked in the face or worse, eye, with her horns. He was entirely satisfied once Rayla’s head rested atop Callum’s crown and relieved that they hadn’t woken up. The previous two days must have really taken it out of them, he wasn’t sure when they would actually wake up, which was a bit of a problem… but at least there was one person awake!

Francis went out to meet the new day. “Good morning, Xadia!” Francis said out loud when he got outside. “Sorry, not as extravagant today. I had a really unsettling dream and there are two sleepy heads still engulfed in slumber. Although, we really should get going, it might be best to give them rest for today.”

Francis scratched his head. A week had passed; it was time. Since he now wasn’t on the boat, he could go somewhere for a small makeover… as well as carrying out the usual morning routine.

* * *

Francis knew of a little river that went by, twenty minutes to the Northeast. That was where he could do all of his necessary routines. He left a polite note explaining his absence and went out to the river. As he walked for some time under the already blazing sun, he couldn’t ignore the stress that manifested on his right side. Francis noticed once again that he was limping ever so slightly. And Once again there was nothing he could do about it, but to bite his tongue and jog on.

That dream did not give him rest. It was too vivid, unlike anything else he had and too many things seemed to be in place for it to just be a coincidence. Why did it have to be his friends? Why was the mountain place so far up into the sky? Was it the Storm Spire? It was renowned for towering high above Xadia.

Francis picked up the pace despite his moaning side, as soon as he saw the river. He could not fail something this big. A long time ago, four years to be precise, he already willingly failed at doing the wrong thing and that had led him in a completely opposite direction ever since. Where would life take him if he failed again? No! Francis was now doing sit-ups with more vigour, ignoring the biting pain on the right side. He couldn’t fail; this had to go perfect! He was going lower, more relentless on his press-ups. He couldn’t afford any misses or missteps. He had to do more, be more. He had to make sure, had to push himself further. One more press-up... Two more press-ups. Three more press-ups! Ten more press-ups!!!

Francis collapsed to the side, his hand hovering and twitching over the pain, fingers curled in agony. He laid motionless for a little while as his body let him recover. Francis removed the obscuring garments from the side of his hip to check on it... and he stared at his injury in horror. This was exactly what he needed least right now. He needed to ensure that everything was going to be fine, but his side was weighing him down. Just his luck, wasn’t it? It never ever was easy. 

_This is what I get for loving challenges so much and getting stuck in_ , Francis grumbled, finally getting up.

He undressed to wash his clothes, himself and shave off his bristle. The river was cool and refreshing and called out to his grimy and unwashed body, wearied in scars, sunken cuts and bruises. He doused his body in cold cutting water that relieved the feeling slightly. It was a much needed procedure.

He had to keep going for his friends, despite the pain. It wasn’t debilitating, so no attention needed to be brought to it. It was his own matter to concern with and resolve. In the meantime, he would put on a face in front of them, as he shaved off the last of his bristle, revealing his sharp jaw.

Once he was done with washing himself, the sun already made easy work in drying his clothes. He put his green trousers and sky blue shirt back in his backpack and took out his other set of clothes. He never found river reflections particularly reliable, but it wasn’t like he had a mirror nearby. He watched himself don the black trousers and put on the black shirt with orange stripes.

* * *

Francis brooded his way back to the cave. The sun was still quite far off of its zenith, but they needed start their walk for today sooner rather than later. Francis was anxious over getting to the Storm Spire as quickly as possible, before something amiss happened. He was just about to reach the cave, everything was fine and then…

“Ack!” A high pitched scream was heard across the canyon. Francis dropped his backpack and sprinted despite the stiffening leg. Sliding his sword from behind his back, he blindly ran into the cave. Whatever caused problems for Callum and Rayla had only one exit and he would block it completely.

“What is it? What’s going on?” Francis announced his presence, scanning his surroundings. He had to blink twice. To his surprise there was no animal, no one other that Rayla, Callum and Zym who looked dumbfoundedly at them clearly woken up by the shriek.

Callum and Rayla had their backs turned towards each other. Callum looked like he wanted to hide, while Rayla looked like she really wished it was the full moon so that she could turn invisible. Instead she had to settle with hiding her face behind one of her hands. They both looked redder than an angry Sunfire elf… but something told Francis that anger wasn’t the emotion they were feeling.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Francis scoffed, sheathing his sword away. He had no intention in hiding his dissatisfaction at the false alarm. His heart could not take another scare like that. “Which one of you exclaimed that girly shriek?”

“Her.”

“Him.”

“Right, I ran all the way for this,” Francis pinched the bridge of his nose. Another dynamic had been added to the management of Team Zym and he would hate his life if this became a regular occurrence. He really wished they would resolve their feelings themselves, otherwise if they continued to act like that then it would be a distraction for Francis. “Look, it gets cold in places like deserts and canyons really quickly and guess what: he’s warm, she’s warm and I’m warm.” Francis delivered his point with masked exasperation. “You don’t find me shouting when I wake up to find both of your heads sleeping soundly on my shoulders, as was the case when I woke up today. So don’t make a big deal out of this.” Francis looked at them both, who remained guiltily silent, still hiding behind their hands. “Look at me,” he said more authoritatively and they obeyed. “If I’m gone again and I’m forced to run back, scared that something bad might have happened and it’s another false alarm over something so small…” Francis paused, letting his narrowing eyes carry the rest of the message. “… it better not be.” Francis turned around to head out of the cave. “I’m going to go back to pick my backpack that I left outside, in the meantime I advise that you pack up, because we’re heading out soon to get some help.” Francis almost turned the corner, but stopped himself just outside the entrance. He looked back in and exclaimed. “Also, good morning!”

* * *

Francis cooled off ever so slightly after they headed out on their journey, besides the pair in front of him really dropped the issue entirely… or at the very least, mercifully did not bring it up again. In fact it was extremely difficult not to stay indifferent at what was unfolding right in front of him. It was Callum’s first time seeing Eastern Xadia!

The Moonshadow Forest was the best place to start for Callum and it still left an impression on Francis. Surrounding them were the great trees that woven around the forest forming its own intricate sloping pathways. The warm green leaves that coyly fluttered on the bark opened up to them of the young blushing summer that was coming soon. The pathway was outlined with bright blooming flowers, some were boasting red, some gracious magenta and some mysterious yellow.

Callum went around gawking and gasping at everything they went by with Rayla telling him about some of the plants and animals. He shoved around his little cube thing at everything. Every. Single. Thing. And with him on his shoulder was Zym, replicating the human expressions Callum was making.

Francis couldn’t help but smile warmly at them, his eyes crinkling softly. If cuteness overdose was a lethal force, Francis definitely would have died four times over… and judging by Rayla’s smirk she would too. Francis couldn’t help but feel like he wasn’t much different four years ago when he made it here. It felt like a lifetime had passed since then, back in the day, before… well, everything… simpler times.

“Everything! Everything radiates Primal Energy in here!” Callum exclaimed.

“Welcome to Eastern Xadia!” Francis chimed.

“Wait!” Callum cupped some of the dirt from the ground.

“Oh no, prepare yourselves for a cerebral cortex overload.” Francis snorted.

“What?” Callum stared at Rayla and Francis, after the Earth rune lit up on the cube. “You’ve got to be kidding me! Magic dirt! What?!”

“Save some of that googly-eyed amazement for later,” Rayla said. “We still have a mission.” Francis ignored the sudden tap he felt on his temple. “I’m taking you to my home,” Rayla continued. “The other elves will help us get Zym to the Dragon Queen as fast as possible.”

Francis considered her words. This wasn’t planned, but the fact that she came to the same plan of action as Francis decided on, put a proud smile on his face. It wasn’t surprising since they were all pretty much on the same wavelength.

Francis saw the glittering indigo fruit hanging low from the tree beside him and his eyes sparked in nostalgia. Rayla picked the fruit off and offered it to Zym, who unceremoniously took the whole thing down in one swooping bite.

“You’re home now, Zym,” she said as though those words took a heavy weight off of her shoulders. The dragon only greedily chomped and gulped the fruit and belched shortly after. As expected, every single time he did that, indigo glitters came out of his mouth.

“Zym!” Francis scoffed lightly. “You have to hold yourself to higher standards than that, buddy.”

“Come on, he’s a baby dragon.” Rayla defended.

“He’s a royalty,” Francis pointed out, but he couldn’t stop himself from grinning at Zym, who playfully wiggled his paw at the glitters that fell on him.

“We won’t tell his mom about this, alright?” Callum proposed. Francis and Rayla only laughed in response.

“Come on, let’s move on!” Francis told them.

* * *

Wow! Everything that Callum saw was beyond his wildest artistry imagination. The grandiose tree barks, the bowing sun, the multicoloured fruits and shrubbery, the woodland creatures that sometimes perked about. He saw what looked like a peacock with light teal and blue body and silver feathers on its wings. There was also a teal and silver squirrel, with a black bushy tail and a golden snout and… get this, two pairs of eyes. Who knew that this world could be so amazing!

The only thing that Callum imagined could make this whole experience better was some sort of music. In fact Callum imagined a sort of quick, easy-going tune in his head that one could tap dance to. Callum never was an average dancer, let alone a good one. His clumsiness was the deal breaker in mastering the arts of dance, but the idea of dancing occurred in his mind more than once today, already eclipsing his lifetime total.

See, before him and Rayla simultaneously woke up today, he had a strange dream. He was dancing… with Rayla. There was nothing wrong, since he was having fun… and she was having fun too. However it wasn’t just fun, he was really enjoying it and not the dancing itself – he was loving the fact that he was dancing with _her_. That was the strange part. It felt a little more than just a dance.

“Hey,” Rayla elbowed him lightly in his side.

“What’s up?” Callum asked a little too quickly.

“Something’s wrong with you.” Rayla pointed out.

“What is it?” Callum looked over himself, thinking this was something serious.

“You’ve stopped doing the thing with your eyes when you make them wider than anything and gasping at literally everything.” Rayla said. “Has the magic already worn off of our Engrossed Prince?”

“No,” Callum stammered. “I’m just… in my head… picturing everything.”

“Oh, so that’s why you’re looking so bright like you are about to swoon,” Rayla said. “Great! I can’t wait to see you first drawings of Xadia!”

“Eastern Xadia,” Francis corrected from behind them and Zym yipped in support from Francis’s shoulder.

“Sorry, yes, Eastern Xadia.” Rayla corrected herself.

Callum tried to stop thinking about that dream and instead hummed a melody in his mind. That quick, easy-going and happy tune. He suddenly realised that he could clearly hear an upbeat tune – something clearly was playing a melody. Callum looked in the direction of the sound. He saw magenta flowers with dark blue filaments and sky blue anthers, shaking from side to side. It had to be them!

“They are the ones who are playing music!” Callum exclaimed, waving his right hand in beat to the melody.

“Yup, it’s a melodaisy.” Rayla said with an amused grin on her face and turned around to keep moving.

Callum groaned shamelessly loudly. “I just got grooving to the music,” Callum grumbled and was going to go after her, but Francis stopped him by placing a hand on his shoulder.

“I too love music and missed it greatly during my travels,” Francis told him, then suddenly spoke consciously louder, by cupping his mouth. “It’s just a shame that Rayla is too afraid to get exposed as not a good dancer!”

“What?!” She sharply turned around, looking like she was slapped in the face. “I would like to let you know, that I’m a good dancer, considering it’s like fighting but without swords!” She aggressively put her hands on her hips.

“Then why are you hurrying off so quickly? Callum clearly wants to dance,” Francis crossed his arms with a cheeky smile on his face. “You know, you could show him how Moonshadow elves dance and he could show you some of the human dances.”

Callum swallowed hard. Why did he feel like that would make his day more than anything that already took place today? His dream could come true a little quicker that he expected, even if he never expected it to come at all in the first place. He just wished he wasn’t awful at dancing. “I’m not…” Callum tried to tell, despite that feeling, but he was cut off.

“Why don’t you tell or show him yourself?” Rayla asked.

“Oh?” Francis looked like he was surprised by her suggestion. “I mean I could, but this is a moment of learning, a cultural exchange and that goes both ways. I have seen pretty much everything and that doesn’t really fit the exchange part.” Francis pointed out. Zym yipped in his ear. “Huh, good point, Zym, I haven’t danced with a dragon before. That would be… an interesting experience.” Francis shook his head, getting back on track. “Anyways, I thought you made it clear to me that you wanted to be the one to tell him about Eastern Xadia, specifically when it came to your culture.” Francis pointed out with an ever growing grin on his face.

“I would love to see some of the traditional dances,” Callum managed to say inconspicuously. “I would be willing to try them.” Callum noticed that Rayla’s cheeks slowly toned down from red to very strong pink.

“Most Moonshadow dances have a quite personal connection and intimate meanings to them.” Rayla glanced away. Even Callum could feel the embarrassment creep into his consciousness. How exactly personal and intimate was it?

“You should see your face,” Francis laughed. “Oh, dear, you can sometimes make it too easy to fluster and tease you!” Rayla glared at him for that. “Look, Callum, I’m sure Rayla wouldn’t mind dancing or listening to the melodaisies, but since we’re so close she just really wants to get back home as quickly as possible. Believe me, I know the feeling.”

“Come on, let’s go,” Rayla urged, quickly turning to hide her face.

They walked for a little while before Rayla suddenly pointed out to a closed up flower. “Oh, speaking of cultural exchanges, this flower right here has the most fascinating smell than any flower in the human kingdoms!”

“No, you’re not pulling that joke on him,” Francis objected firmly. “You’re not giving him the flatulillies!”

“Really?! You had to ruin it?” Rayla complained.

“So what, it’s a fart flower?” Callum asked.

“I’ve told you, there are standards, even when it comes to humour,” Francis waggled his finger. “And I can tell you, there is no latrine humour here!”

“You and your sophisticated humour.” Rayla grumbled, going on with a wrinkled nose and a pout.

Callum thought he might have just been saved from a fate worse than death, although fart flowers might have been something Ezran would love. In any case, it was getting dark soon and they needed to find a place to stay. He had a lot of things he wanted to spill onto that sketchbook and not explicitly the scenery.

* * *

“Front foot too far forward. Your eyes are a tell. Block. Counter-parry. Disarmed,” Rayla heard Francis narrate during their sparring and just as he said, her hand forcibly flew to the side… and so did her sword. “Come on, again. You need to do better than that.” Rayla silently followed his instructions and tried again. She struck first at his right side, something felt off to her with his movement. “Predictable. Misdirection. Block. Grab. Thrown to the ground.” Francis didn’t give her a chance, as her back familiarised itself with the ground again. She clenched her fists and hit the ground, venting out her frustration at herself. “Come on, up! This time I’m on the offensive,” he told her and she got up.

She side-eyed Callum, who was engrossed in watching them… although she swore every single time she looked at him, his eyes were quickly darting away from her and onto Francis. Normally she wouldn’t mind Callum watching, she actually enjoyed the audience, but not this time. Since she was being completely dominated, she wished Callum wasn’t here to witness her embarrassing performance.

“Come on, focus! I’m the one that is threatening to hurt you, not Callum!” Francis clicked his fingers to grab her attention. His eyes intensely stared at her. She quickly steadied herself and they went again, as she blocked Francis’s sweeping shot. “No, Rayla! I did the same trick on you again!” His nostrils flared up at her mistake. “Stop! We’re repeating that. Don’t give me that, again!” Francis angrily told her. Rayla only listened and tried to do better again. Again. And again.

“Better,” Francis told her shortly. It was the first compliment about her performance. “Great balance,” he continued. She was getting a little more confident. “Argh, you almost had it!” Francis lamented, as he gracefully disarmed her with the flick of his wrist. She sighed in frustration. “That’s enough for you,” Francis concluded. “You and Callum go get some firewood and start the fire for the night. I need to do something else.”

“Something else?” Rayla asked suspiciously. He rarely ever left camp and he was usually transparent with his actions.

“Some exercises,” Francis told her and without another word went deeper into the forest. Rayla looked after him incredulously. Something felt off to her… she just wasn’t sure what exactly.

“Come on, you heard him,” Callum called over. “Let’s get the firewood.”

“Have you noticed anything about Francis?” Rayla asked, walking over to Callum, yet still looking in Francis’s direction.

“I’m not sure,” Callum admitted. “I felt like throughout the day he was fine, but…”

“Are you sure?” Rayla cut him off, looking dubiously at him. “Tell me if you remember a time where Francis hasn’t led the way? He spent the entire day behind us!”

Callum looked pensively in response. “And he went in more intensely in training than I’ve seen,” he pointed out.

“Quite a bit more,” Rayla agreed.

“Maybe he’s just making it more difficult for you?” Callum suggested. “Or maybe it’s nothing?”

“Maybe,” Rayla said, despite not being entirely convinced by his words. “Let’s just see how it is tomorrow.”

* * *

The next day felt fine as they set off earlier than usual, dewing their feet in the process. Francis was chirpy that morning and was even whistling some sort of tune as they walked uphill, but he was still trailing them.

“Are you alright, Francis?” Callum asked, looking over his shoulder and speaking a little louder due to the wind mercilessly whipping at his scarf.

“Yeah, I’m awesome, actually!” Francis replied. “Is there something wrong?”

“You just normally never the one at the back,” Callum continued.

“Oh, right,” Francis chuckled, though his laughter never reached his eyes. “Since it’s your first time in Eastern Xadia, I didn’t want to obscure the view with my wide shoulders and frequently waving cape.” In truth the wind did make the cape tug his shoulder backwards.

“Oh, okay,” Callum accepted his answer. “Thanks for thinking about that, that’s really kind of you.”

“I know you wouldn’t want to miss this view,” Francis nodded forwards, making Callum’s head turn.

Standing on the cliff, the pink morning skies greeted them to an eye-watering landscape of the forest way below them. The morning fog that covered the forest allured them to witness the nature it hid.

“Hey, Callum,” Rayla stood closer to him, making Callum aware of the lack of distance they suddenly had between them. She leaned closer, her head and ears almost touching his, as she raised her hand to Callum’s eye level and pointed way off in the distance. “Right over there is Silvergrove, my home. Only about a day and half away.”

“Wow, I’m excited for my first elven settlement!” Callum beamed. “Are there any other settlements nearby?”

“A few, but the main one is the Moon Meadows, somewhere over there,” Rayla pointed more to the Southeast. “I’ve heard that it’s a cluster of many different villages that make up a big area.”

“You’ve heard correctly,” Francis confirmed. “If you allow me to add to the conversation, right there,” Francis nudged Callum to face where he was pointing, accidentally bumping him into Rayla, causing the both of them to flush. “Over there, way in the distance, maybe even over the horizon, you might be able to see a bright dot if you squint hard enough. That is Lux Aurea, the Sunfire elf stronghold. It is probably the strongest in the entire of Xadia, only Katolis castle can compare to its impenetrability.”

“They are one proud kind of elves.” Rayla scowled slightly.

“Then you would make a great Sunfire elf. Perhaps you should have been born as one,” Francis jabbed. “Though I can’t defend the fact that they could be quite arrogant at times.”

“Not excessively as them,” Rayla replied to Francis’s mock. “Their entire city is made out of gold!”

“Rumours,” Francis shot her down. “Not everything that glitters is gold in that city. It does have gold but it also has loads of reflective materials and since the Sun Forge is also located there, it has a magnifying effect.” Francis cleared his throat. “Now, somewhere over there, about two days of leisurely walk to the East of Lux Aurea, is the Storm Spire, the Dragon Queen’s residence, which is exactly where we are heading, after detouring to Silvergrove.”

“So how do we get down then?” Callum asked.

“To go down, we need to go up,” Rayla turned around to show Callum the grandiose tree standing behind them leaning far forward.

“Wow. This must be the biggest tree in the world,” Callum sounded too excited for what it really was. “What do you call it?”

Francis and Rayla exchanged amused stares. “A tree.” They both said at the same time.

“Oh,”Callum slumped his shoulders. “I’m really disappointed by that.”

“Don’t be, at least you’ll get to see Francis’s fear of heights on full display.” Rayla shot.

Francis shook his head, it was only apprehension of heights. “Yeah, see how far the tree arches over the edge,” he said nonchalantly. “Yeah, just remember that if you do fall, you have plenty of time to reconsider your life choices. Just think quicker to slow down your fall!”

“That’s the optimistic Francis we all know!” Rayla chimed, not looking off put by his comment whatsoever. She drew her blades and rotated them into picks, handing one out to Callum. “Up we go!” Rayla ran to the tree and jumped at the bark, rapidly ascending it.

“Well, I’ll see you up there,” Francis told Callum as he circled the tree to climb at the less steeper side.

Callum wasn’t exactly sure how he would be able to tackle this, but gave it a go anyway. He copied what Rayla did and sunk his pick into the bark, but his body only slumped awkwardly. He felt Zym land on his backpack. “Really?” He complained. “You had to pick me? Why not Francis? Even better, why don’t you just fly up there?” Zym only barked in response and moved to plant himself on Callum’s head. Callum sighed and made laborious attempts to pull himself upwards. It would definitely take him a long time to get up.

* * *

“He’ll make it eventually,” Francis looked concerningly down, flexing his fingers.

“Zym?” Rayla said, when his snout popped up first. Callum’s hand eventually came to grab the bark. She was first to come over and offer him a hand in getting up, which he gladly took. The boy was panting quite a bit.

“So, are you going to take the cool way down or a totally basic overused and inferior way down?” Francis asked clearly in jest, giving Callum the time to get his breath back.

“Wait, there is another way?” Rayla asked clearly unaware of this ‘cool’ way.

“Well, it’s a little riskier,” Francis conceded. “I think it would be better for the two of you to take the seeds.”

“Riskier?” Rayla questioned. “Are you sure you’re not going to kill yourself this time?”

“Hey, look, I’m…”

“Don’t. I know what you are going to say.” Rayla interrupted.

“Okay, fine, I’m not crazy,” Francis said and Rayla gave him an incredulous glare, feeling like there was a catch. “I’m just a little mad.”

“You are never going to stop saying it, are you?” Rayla rolled her eyes.

“It’s who I am.” Francis shrugged his shoulders.

“Even if what you’re about to do might be suicidal?” Rayla asked.

“We’re all going to die at some point,” Francis contemplated. “Especially us fighters, the more and longer we fight the more likely we’ll meet our end. It’s just a case of probability.” He looked nonchalantly around. “Anyways, I’m going to go look for the perfect leaf and demonstrate you the cool way.” He sprung away.

“Are you ready, Callum?” Rayla asked.

Callum took a few more breaths and nodded. They walked across a mossy branch that hung furthest over the edge. While Rayla walked normally, as if she was on the ground, Callum carefully balanced himself with his hands. Francis might have been sarcastic earlier in his words, but right below was a massive drop.

They were coming up to the end of the branch, when they heard Francis shout across to them. “Are you two ready?”

“We’re just about ready to make our way down.” Rayla replied.

“Yeah, but are you two ready to be amazed?” Francis brandished his sword to them. It poke completely through a large triangular leaf. “I’m going to jump.”

“What?” Rayla’s eyes went wide in horror.

“Are you sure that it will hold you and the backpack?” Callum asked.

“Totally,” Francis replied nonchalantly. “I’ve done this before and both the sword and the leaf will hold me. I’ll follow wherever you land.” Francis looked over the edge.

“Are you sure you don’t want to do this with us?” Rayla asked.

“I get to control where I go and how quickly I fall; the seed is too unpredictable for me, even if it’s slightly safer.” Francis looked at them with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “As to whether I’m sure? The only time you should take the leap is if you’re confident in yourself, if it’s worth it. You just got to have faith.” He gave them a smile and wordlessly jumped off his branch.

Francis caught the wind and directed with his body the way he travelled. His forelock and the leaf split the prevailing wind in half, as his cape staunchly followed making sure to cover his sides. Callum could hear the wind carry Francis’s clamours of elation to them. His green cape looked to have become one with the leaf, as Francis became a green dot that circled slowly down clearly waiting for them to descent.

“I swear one day he will do something that will almost get himself killed, whether it be for a justifiable reason or not.” Rayla grumbled.

“So how are we going to…?” Callum began asking, only for Rayla to pointedly jump down. Callum didn’t get enough time to react surprised as he finally looked downwards. She landed on a pericarp of a very large maple seed, encouraging for him to do the same.

Callum swallowed hard. Down below the seed was absolutely nothing. The fog at the bottom clouded the forest; the ground was entirely invisible to him. If he fell, the fog would completely swallow him, not even giving him a chance to see the ground… to react in time. His body froze in its place, chained by fear. One slip up and he would only have seconds to make peace with his mind.

Zym jumped in after Rayla, unfazed by the heights. It was a little unfair, since he had wings. Callum gulped the chaining thoughts away and unwillingly braved the jump. He landed beside Rayla, who had her hand ready in case he slipped, but thankfully it wasn’t needed.

“Get ready! Hold on tight!” Rayla warned him, as she chopped at the base of the seed.

“Are you sure this is much safer?” Callum asked her, eyeing the lack of things to grab on beside him.

“As long as you hold on tight!” She said cheerily.

_Snap!_

The seed went off flying, making Callum yell as he fell backwards on the wings, feeling the wind push the seed in circles. The centrifugal forces forcefully pulled him closer to the pericarp… closer towards Rayla. She however reacted quickly and was ready. She grabbed hold of him in her arms and Callum held her tightly in return, afraid he could fly off if he let her go. At least Zym was far more calm in this situation, as he chirped on the edge of the wing, looking excitedly in Francis’s direction when they flew past him.

The wind thankfully pushed them forwards in direction they needed to go. Soon they plunged through the canopy of leaves, breaking through a couple of branches, but thankfully the landing went fairly smoothly and they grinded to a halt. A moment passed until Callum finally acknowledged that Rayla was still in his arms.

“Oh, sorry,” he quickly backed off, feeling himself flush the same colour as his scarf. He stuttered. “I… I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s okay,” Rayla said quickly, flushing an equally hot red. “It was a bumpy ride.” She winked and looked to have quickly regretted her actions. She got up, snapping her sights away from him, as her fingers curled a little frustratingly. Francis swooped in, gracefully threading the hole they made in the trees and thus coming out completely unscratched.

“Woo!” He exclaimed. “That was fun! You should all try it some day!” He knelt beside Zym, who panted at him pleadingly. “It looks like Zym wants to go again! I’m sorry, Zym, but that was only a one way ride.” He sheathed his sword back, rubbing Zym affectionately at his neck. He looked up at Callum and Rayla. “How was it? A bit of a bumpy ride for you two, I presume?” Rayla groaned and without replying turned around and led the way. “I said something, didn’t I?” Francis pointed out the obvious, his eyes narrowing. Callum only nervously rubbed at the back of his neck. “We move on,” Francis concluded.

* * *

The midday sun unkindly scorched the air around them, completely ignoring the fact that it wasn’t summer yet. Francis pushed Rayla back after another one of her apparent frontal attack.

“Rayla, it’s the same mistake!” Francis berated her after another sparring round, as she genuinely growled at herself. He wanted her to be better, she wanted to be better, but her young years clearly shown through. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop diving headfirst at your opponent? I understand that if you attacked an unsuspecting enemy who doesn’t know you and is clearly worse than you, but I’m none of those!” Francis took a break in his rant to drink a few gulps of water, but his teeth remained gritted. “You have speed and agility, so use it! Move from side to side! Unsettle me! Shake me!” Francis urged. “Again!”

Rayla went at him again, this time she did as he told her. She managed to survive for a bit before he coolly disarmed her. She raised her hands in defeat. Francis still seemed unsatisfied. She would actually go as far as to call him angry at the fact that she wasn’t doing as well as he wanted her to. He always set high standards for himself and others, especially himself. That man always demanded only the best out of everyone. Yet, there was a nagging feeling in Rayla’s stomach that the only way Francis would calm down was if she did everything perfectly, regardless of the fight’s end result. He only wanted perfection… from both parties.

“You’re not thinking like you would in a fight,” he told her.

“How? I would act like that in a fight!” Rayla claimed.

“You’re a fighter, Rayla,” Francis told her. “You won’t give up that easily in a fight… and you are still not using the surrounding environment to your full extent!” Francis walked her through the points of interests. “Those two trees will hold your weight. That tree is perfect if you want to corner someone. Ledge to the right, always a danger if the opponent’s back is to it or is unaware of it, so consider tackling them off the edge.” Francis wiped away the sweat from his brow. “I’m going to allow you to hit me.”

“What?” Rayla stared wide eyed. “That’s dishonourable, I can’t land a punch on my teacher and definitely not on my friend!”

“Not if the teacher tells you to do it, not if your friend tells you it’s okay and not if it’s a matter of survival.” Francis told her bluntly. “Sword fighting is an art and we should strive for graceful moves, but it is hardly ever an exhibition and a showcase of elegance during a real battle. If it’s close match-up then survival is all that matters. Use anything and everything to your advantage!”

They went again, this time Rayla lasted even longer, as she managed to use a tree root to make Francis lose his balance, though he quickly recovered. She missed her chance to get the upper hand and win for once. After an elaborate movement of his hands and wrist, she found herself disarmed again.

This time she didn’t just simply raise her hands, she did as she was asked. She quickly grabbed his wrist and instinctively struck at his right side. It crumbled a little too easy, much easier than she expected, much easier that it should have ever been. She clearly heard him hold back a growl, followed by a clang of his sword hitting the ground.

Francis fell backwards and Rayla thought that she might have just won. No. Francis was bad at giving up. He cushioned his landing, and used his leg to sweep Rayla’s. She unsurprisingly crashed on her back.

They both quickly flipped themselves into a standing position. Rayla saw a black mass with orange lines dart in her direction, too quick for her to react. She felt his hands grab her, as she was tackled over onto the ground. Rayla’s reflexes did not prove to be superior this time, as she got pinned to the ground and she was left staring at a loaded, drawn back fist.

Her breath felt short, it felt almost real… but that was the point. She stared at his sharp panting face and his brown eyes, that clearly stood out from the black outfit. In those eyes harboured the darkness of cold calculating instincts… but she also thought Francis’s eyes looked pained, like they purposefully held back something.

“Better,” he said curtly, before his eyes went back to normal, with the adrenaline wearing off. Just like that, his much friendlier look was back. He looked pleased when he genuinely added. “Good reflexes when you lost the swords, that was the right thing to do. That’s more like what you would do in a real fight!”

“I hope I didn’t hurt you too badly.” Rayla mumbled. Normally elves wouldn’t apologise after sparring sessions, but since she landed a punch on her friend and her teacher, it just felt a little off… as did that right side of his.

“Not as much as not doing as well as I know you can.” Francis smiled and she beamed back at him, relieved that he didn’t take it personally. He turned to Callum, who was spectating and drawing as per usual. “Don’t forget to depict the moment where I take a tumble and Rayla is beating me!”

“Oh, uh…” Callum stammered.

“Just don’t boost her ego, too much.” Francis jocundly side-eyed Rayla, who nudged him off in retaliation. Under the shade it was hard to catch on if Callum was blushing or not.

“Will do,” he laughed nervously. It turned out that he was already doing that… and in the end the drawing left Rayla in a superb mood!

* * *

Francis should have known that he would get exactly what he got for allowing Rayla to land a punch on him. First hit – already at his injured side. How convenient. He only had himself to blame. It showed that he would just have to do better next time.

Dusk was shortly upon them and he searched for a place to spend the night. It seemed like the weather would be merciful on them: no clouds in sight – no rain tonight! Although he was happy to do that, his eyes noted that his was the only pair that was actually scanning for a camp spot.

He noticed Callum and Rayla talking between themselves, barely ever looking away from each other. It was a little amusing and adorable to see how many times their eyes lingered a little too softly just for a bit too long around their faces, before quickly and inconspicuously looking away (sometimes simultaneously) too afraid to be exposed or caught in the act. He lost count after a while.

Francis felt a nagging feeling in his mind… a feeling that he did not welcome, but knew he couldn’t help but feel. He was well and truly happy for them, happy that they were this happy around each other… but he also felt a little empty, a little rueful. He just wished that someone would genuinely look at him twice, that someone would look at him like the teenagers in front of him were looking at each other, even if their stares were subdued due to shyness.

He knew his worth, he knew he was good enough, it just sometimes went over his head why no one else wanted to see that. Everyone seemed to focus on three things: his family, the Pentarchy Tournament and his departure that often eclipsed the infamous council meeting. He just wanted someone to appreciate for who he truly was, for a normal ordinary human being, not for a kid who made headlines at The Pentarchy Tournament and who would hopefully do some more famous stuff in the future.

Francis wasn’t sure if he would ever get the chance to fall in love with someone and then them requite the same feelings. He may have only been eighteen, but he knew who he was, what he was doing and where he wanted to go. His goals would be costly and time consuming. Would there ever be enough time for him to ever find his partner and commit to her?

Francis swallowed bitterly, feeling a negative answer to his question. He had a duty to use his skills to serve others. The longer he served the more he feared that he won’t be able to trust anyone’s supposed romantic interest. He was afraid people would chase after his fame, his name, his reputation and not after him. Even the one elf who found the bravery to open herself up to him chased after the idea that he was an elf. No one knew who he truly was; he made sure he never fully opened himself up. His grandmother always told him that you should never do that, even to your wife.

“We should stop here for the night,” he said abruptly, even for himself. “We will probably make it to Silvergrove sometime after midday.”

“Hey, Francis,” Rayla carefully approached him, as she lowered her voice. “Do you mind if we take a small detour? It’s perfect timing and I just wanted to show something special.”

Francis felt a warm smile slowly tug at his lips. “I know exactly what you want to show Callum.” He said knowingly.

“You can come too, of course!” Rayla quickly added, flushing a little.

“Hey, I’m not insulted,” he calmed her down. “I’ve been to that field before and… and…” Francis pondered over his words. He felt absolutely wrong about coming there, as he would clearly be the odd one out. He felt he would intrude on their moment and he already unwillingly interrupted a few personal moments over the course of this journey. He considered whether he should just tell her outright. “I just don’t want to be in the way of you two.”

“You’re not interrupting anything,” her face went hot.

“Rayla, you wanted to be the one to show things around for Callum and I’m granting you that wish, since it is clearly a piece of you.” Francis elucidated. “You two go to the field and I’ll prepare the camp,” he concluded. He felt Rayla jump into him for a hug.

“Thank you, so much for understanding. You’re a saint!” She beamed.

“No problem!” Francis smiled as she pulled back. “Stay there as long as you have to. I’ll keep the fire going until you come back. I know you’ll bring some of them back, so whatever you do just keep them away from my backpack!”

“Will do!” Rayla laughed, as she invited Callum to follow her, leaving Francis alone with Zym to break camp.

It was dusk… and after dusk, night always followed… and with it, darkness always came. It would be inevitable no matter how long Francis tried to hold it off, but prolonging the inevitable in this case felt better for Francis, allowing himself to prepare to battle with himself. He could read the diary while it was still light and play with Zym before the lovestruck teenagers would come back and go to sleep. As he gathered firewood, he wanted to spill his mind.

“So, Zym, do dragons have the same problems as us when they are looking for mates?” Francis asked and Zym look quizzically back at him. He sighed at himself. “You’re a little too young to know that, aren’t you?”

* * *

“So what did you want to show to me?” Callum asked looking around, when Rayla pulled apart a set of branches. Rayla gasped and before Callum could look back at her, he felt her grab his arm and pull him after her. Her hands felt unbelievably soft, despite the callouses, and there was a lightness to them.

“We’ve made it just in time,” she expressed, glowing at the prospect. This was probably the most excited Callum had ever seen her and that excitement was infectious. The wide smile pushed way beyond the corners of her mouth, reaching her ears and eyes. Her violet eyes shone softly and brightly like a beacon, full of joy. Her entire posture radiated the childhood nostalgia for this place.

Rayla presented to him a breath-taking view… that wasn’t herself. Underneath a tall and wide tree was a big open field of long silver green grass that went up to their torsos. The setting sun warmly blessed the scenery with light.

“I used to come to this meadow when I was a kid,” Rayla opened up, as she dreamily twirled around, throwing her arms wide open and making Callum’s mind a little hazy. “I would spend hours on my own, exploring and making all kinds of colourful new friends.”

“Friends?” Callum’s sharpness spiked back to normal, as he looked around. There was no one but them and a tonne of empty space. What friends was she talking about?

“Catch.” He heard Rayla call out to him.

Callum wasn’t fast nor coordinated enough to actually catch whatever Rayla threw at him, but thankfully he didn’t need to be. The object in question attached itself to Callum’s elbow and he pulled it off to inspect it. It was a blue fluffy ball that was incredibly clingy. “What is it?” He asked and to his great surprise the ball squeaked and opened up a pair of eyes.

“It’s an adoraburr,” Rayla answered. “By the way, they are everywhere and they stick well to everything… especially if you’re clumsy enough.”

Callum picked up on the hint, as he heard squeaking below him. Just as he expected, his leg was entirely covered in multi-coloured adoraburrs. “They’re so cute!” He proclaimed.

“They also stick together.” Rayla continued with a pleased and elated grin on her face, as she removed a stack of three from Callum’s leg. “I thought you would like them.”

“I love them,” Callum said with open arms, letting himself fall backwards, which was subsequently followed by more adoraburrs squeaking. When Callum got back up on his feet, he heard Rayla booming laughter.

“That’s nice,” she pointed to a newly formed rainbow afro of adoraburrs on Callum’s head. He only stared at her disapprovingly, knowing he was being teased. “No, really, that look suits you!” She insisted.

Callum gasped at the idea that formed in his head… or rather on his head. He decided to take it a step further, leaving Rayla intrigued at his next move. Callum ran and divebombed into the tall grass, sending a few of the adoraburrs flying to the side. He rolled a couple of times and presented the monstrosity he made. Rayla gasped and clasped her hands in front of her mouth with her eyes crinkling at the sides. She looked absolutely delighted as she laughed.

“Hey, these things come off, right?” Callum asked and they both burst out laughing, Rayla was even clutching her stomach. Callum swung his arm sending a wave of adoraburrs her way, covering her from her horns to her midriff. Taken aback, she stumbled backwards, but took him up on the challenge, as they had an adoraburr fight.

She won with ease, but Callum didn’t care. This was by far the highlight of his time in Eastern Xadia… and maybe, hopefully, Rayla’s too, as they laughed way into the night.

* * *

Rayla woke up earlier the next day, with terrifying thoughts in her head. Last few days warmly flashed by, barely deigning her with any feeling of looming dread. That morning she was made pointedly aware that she was about to reach Silvergrove. After all this time, she was almost home… yet she wasn’t sure how to feel about it. She was happy and excited – her childhood home, a place where it all started, a place where she grew up, a place of dreams that were. Yet she was also terrified – Silvergrove was a place where things just weren’t to be, a place where she had been abandoned, a place in which those dreams had been shattered.

What made her more aware of the terror within her was what she saw in her dream that night. She didn’t remember what the dream was exactly, it was all a little too hazy, but she distinctly remembered seeing Runnan in her dream. She still didn’t know what happened to her assassin’s team. In fact, it was the first time she had thought about her assassin’s team in a while and in fairness too many things happened so quickly that she didn’t really get the time to face their potential fates. When she looked back, so many things have happened that it really felt like anything before her assassin’s mission was from a different lifetime, even though only two weeks have passed. She was a different person and if she told some of the things she was now to her past self, the past her would call the present her insane and her claims way outside the realms of possibilities.

Sure, she used to be intrigued by humans, but now not only she was really comfortable around being some of them, she also had a crush on one of them and considered the other two her best friends, with one of them teaching her about sword fighting! Life sure could twist its way around to go down paths that were previously considered impossible.

Originally she wanted to sleep for a while longer, but considering the unpleasant dream and the fact that her attempts were proving to be fruitless, she gave up on that. Instead she heard something shuffle to the side and she opened her eyes for the first time. What she saw was both expected and surprising. It was obvious that only Francis could be the one that was awake before any of them, but she was flabbergasted at the fact that somehow Francis was not only already up, but was also seemingly ready to crack on with the day. He really was a light sleeper and he wasn’t joking when he said that he woke up with the first lights. Considering how he sometimes had a feel for things, to the point of freakishly clairvoyant, that wasn’t surprising. As a result, she opted to close one of her eyes, afraid to tip him off that she was awake… like it would make a huge difference.

She observed him, wondering what he was up to and for the most part he was just quiet. One could think that Francis was simply being considerate to his friends, however to her, he seemed uncharacteristically withheld and taciturn… and not in the absentminded way, like he sometimes looked when he was deep in thought. No, he reminded her of a person who just came out of a struggle. What kind of struggle, she wasn’t sure.

Francis froze for a moment and his eyes immediately trained on her. “Good morning,” he said quietly, lest he woke up the dreaming princes. All of a sudden, whatever Rayla saw was gone in an instant. He was looking merry.

“Good morning.” She groggily replied back, rubbing her eyes as she sat up.

“I must make a complaint,” he pointed out, “I’ve never seen you come out as tired out of training with me as you did when you returned last night. You’re making me nervous that I’m becoming redundant and that Callum is getting more out of you.”

“Shut up,” she chuckled lightly, feeling a warmth creep up her face. “I really, really enjoyed last night… got to remember my childhood and see how Callum reacted to the things I loved.”

“Well, I’m glad you got to have fun.” The morning sun reflected in Francis’s smile, even if his eyes outshone that. “I can’t say I was any better when I visited that meadow three and a half years ago,” he sighed at the innocent memory. “But hey, now you’ll get to finally dance with Callum.” He teased her.

“It must have been a little awkward when Mac let you into Silvergrove?” Rayla deflected with a question, hoping she wasn’t turning too pink.

“Yeah, he was clearly aware of the possible implications if he was ever found out… and you know, everyone’s Key is very personal. It requires a lot of trust and comfort to simply show it and let someone in.” Francis hinted.

“Oh, I’m one hundred percent comfortable in doing so.” She stated. She was definitely confident in showing them her Key. Despite the doubts and dread inside her, she was mostly excited to return home and show Callum and Francis around her childhood places. She just hoped Callum would wake up soon… speaking of whom…

“Doing what?” Callum said hoarsely, his throat was clearly dry.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” She teased.

“I woke up earlier than usual!” Callum protested unconvincingly, not even sitting up.

“Still later than the both of us,” Francis shook his head.

“We were talking about Silvergrove.” Rayla told Callum.

“And what exactly did you discuss?” He yawned.

“Oh, you want to find out?” Rayla smirked, as she got up. “Then you better catch up!” She set out in the direction of home, leaving Callum uncertain about whether she was still joking or not.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Francis urged. “Up! Up and after her!”

* * *

They were well on their way to the Silvergrove and the big sign that they were coming closer were the Archangel Lunaris or Moonmoths, as known in the vernacular. They were becoming more and more common.

“We’re almost here!” Rayla murmured, then her face immediately tensed. “Still unsure of what to think of it all.”

“You’re just nervous,” Callum told her, as he stacked adoraburrs during this journey to pass the time quicker. “Once they see you and little baby Zym, I’m sure they’ll help us.” Callum stuck his tongue out as he planted the last adoraburr he had into the growing tower. “There! Five in a row! These fellas are so stackable!” Just as he said that, the adoraburrs fell apart on the ground.

“When the other elves see me and Zym is one thing,” Rayla pondered. “But my new human friends might not be so popular.”

“I have a disguise,” Francis referred to his trusty black cloak and to be fair his green cape wasn’t as widely recognised in the East as it was in the West… but it still could be recognised. “I’ve done this before.”

“You do know who will be popular?” Callum dove into his backpack. “Your charming new elf friend!”

“Oh, no. Please no,” Rayla prepared herself to cringe.

“Yes!” Francis leaned in, stroking his chin. “I’ve been waiting for this payback for a while!”

“Get ready to meet…” Callum stuck a pair of twigs and leaves on his head, supported by a very visible band. “… Elf Callum!” He turned around dramatically to show that he was largely the same as previously barring the band and loads of leaves he stuck into his scarf and around his wrist. It was a poor disguise at best and at worst a laughable costume… unless you purposefully told everyone that this was a costume for a play.

“Spiffing look.” Francis said dryly.

“Yeah, you’re like a whole different person and totally not a human.” Rayla deadpanned.

“I’m one of those forest elves, with the antlers.” Callum told them. Ironically, the twig broke off a little exactly when he said that, forcing Callum to fix how his left ‘antler’ stood up.

“Oh, you’re supposed to be an Earthblood elf?” Rayla suggested hesitantly.

“No, he’s a forest elf,” Francis jested. “Callum said it himself. He knows all of the terminology, anyone will buy his disguise.”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait,” Callum clearly insisted them to hold off their judgement. “The illusion is not complete.” Callum took a deep breath and put on an incredibly thick accent, his voice deeper than it usually was. “Oy, mate, I’m an Earthblood elf! All me best friends are trees!” Callum comically hobbled over to a tree and hugged it. Rayla’s palm quickly made contact with her face, as she couldn’t stop herself from visibly cringing. Francis only looked on, clearly enjoying both Rayla’s reaction and Callum’s display, who continued. “‘Mate’ is Earthblood for ‘friend’. High four?” Rayla reluctantly indulged him. “Down low?”

“No, we’re done,” she walked off… at least Zym hit Callum’s hand with his tail.

“Honestly, Callum, for your first time considering you have never met or heard an Earthblood elf before, that wasn’t too bad.” Francis mused, leaning against a tree.

“What?” Rayla snapped her look back on the both of them. Her eyes were so wide, they were probably close to popping out. “You’re not being serious?! That was awful!”

“I think he took a few lessons from a certain someone.” Francis insinuated.

“Me? I sound nothing like that!” Rayla was clearly taken aback by that comment. “It’s leagues better than that!”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Francis shook it off and went ahead. “Enjoy the taste of your medicine.”

“You are so dying when the next full moon comes,” Rayla threatened.

“Not if I kill you first.” Francis replied with a sly smile, crossing his arms.

“Could you two compete without threatening each other’s lives?” Callum asked ducking his head a little.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Rayla replied. “You better sleep tightly tonight.”

“I will,” Francis chuckled as he went on. “Come on, Rayla, you really wanted to get back home!”

* * *

Despite being very close, they still had to travel late into the afternoon before they arrived. They were walking up another wide bark of a tree, however unlike the previous ones, the wood was sloping downwards and looked thoroughly clean – a sign of meticulous care. If Callum didn’t know any better he would say that it looked like a walkway to the front door.

“We’re here – my home.” Rayla hummed, running a little ahead of the group.

“Here?” Callum asked, befuddled by the lack of… well, everything a village should have, like houses, pavements and people. It was just an empty field at the bottom of this tree bark. “I mean, I like it. It’s… modest.” His comment was greeted by two very audible, very exasperated sighs.

“Callum, where have you been all this time?” Francis asked, stunned at how Callum wasn’t connecting the dots. “It’s like you’ve been purposefully ignoring the very nature of Moonshadow beings, magic included.”

“It’s hidden by an illusion,” Rayla explained, looking a little disappointed to being forced to explain the first part… but clearly not the next part. “To get in, I will perform a special ritual that will let me see through the spell. It’s like having a magic key.”

“Huh,” Callum looked at her, seemingly satisfied with her explanation. “So how do we get in?”

“You’ll use my Key.” Rayla said simply and raised her hands in some sort of stance. Callum looked at her confused. “Oh, come on, it’s easy. Just do what I do!”

“Easy?” Francis sounded dubious. “Don’t lie to him. I’m well-coordinated and even I still struggle with performing a Key. I’m afraid Callum’s clumsiness also plays against him.”

“I’ll try,” Callum insisted.

“Taking your backpack off might be a great start because it will get in the way,” Francis pointed out dryly.

“Let me,” Rayla interjected, as she took off Callum’s backpack and tossed it to the side, away from where they would perform the ritual. She grabbed hold of Callum’s hands and moved them into the position that she was satisfied with. They locked eyes for a moment and she smiled at him excitedly, reassuring that he would be fine and that there was nothing to worry about.

“Come on, Zym, I’ll be your dance partner for this!” Francis spoke to the chirping dragon, bringing Callum and Rayla out of their momentary stupor.

She backed off and led him through her Key. She lifted her leg and went around in circles, elegantly remaining on her toes. Her hands remained raised, with one graciously fanning outwards as she pirouetted.

Callum, bless him, roughly followed the steps. He was so focused on Rayla, there were a few occasions when he nearly stumbled into Francis or worse, almost fell off the side of the tree bark. At least, he wasn’t tripping over his own feet.

As all four of them stepped, runes began to glow on the bark, radiating a bluish hue. Francis remained on the outer side, forming a second circle of runes where it was just him and Zym. He did similar movements to Rayla, albeit clearly less practiced, but he also added a little of his own. He occasionally moved his arms behind his back naturally arching his spine and puffing his chest. On a couple occasions he allowed himself to twist and jump. Zym just ran and flew around in circles, yipping and chirping with his tongue lolling out of his smiling snout.

When the circle of runes were complete, Rayla held her hand up and out for Callum do the same. He awkwardly shifted his weight and when his fingers interlaced with Rayla’s, she needed to apply some force in order to keep him on his feet. They continued to side-step in a circle as they both smiled and stared at each other, one clearly over the moon with anticipation of showing them her home, the other blissful to see her so happy.

As they continued going in circles a visible lunar and nocturnal aura protruded from them into the surrounding area, undoing the illusion spell. Everything that Callum was expecting to see previously was slowly appearing at the bottom of the bark: the houses with windows shining brightly in the evening light, the elves walking around, the pavements that connected places together. The ritual was complete and Rayla lowered her hand.

Francis looked around with narrowed eyes, as he put his black cloak on and lifted his backpack up. Wasn’t the sun out a second ago? Why was it night-time all of a sudden? He looked at Rayla who didn’t seem to react to it… at all. Maybe he was overthinking it as per usual? Despite everything, a heavy, hinting weight formed in his stomach.

“This is it – the Silvergrove,” Rayla stood facing it with open arms.

“Wow,” was all Callum managed to say, when he came up to her after retrieving his backpack.

“Isn’t it amazing?” Rayla looked at him with unbridled excitement, as she grabbed his arm and ran down, tugging Callum with her, to the bottom, leaving Francis hobbling after them with Zym on his shoulders. “I want to show you everything!” She made her intentions clear, as she spun around to face Callum whilst walking backwards. “Oh, are you hungry? I can take you where they make the best Moonberry Surprise!”

“Ooh! Moonberry Surprise! What’s in it?” Callum was already drooling.

“Do you not know the definition of the word ‘surprise’?” Francis sarcastically humoured behind them, as he finally caught up, walking normally.

“I can’t just tell you what’s in a Moonberry Surprise, Callum.” Rayla told him.

“Oh, right,” Callum realised and looked back at Francis. “Have you ever…?” Callum began, but he trailed off when he saw Francis stop in his tracks, his body turning to look at an elf who passed by. Francis’s head sunk forwards, as if weight was attached to his neck. Callum narrowed his eyes around and what he saw did not reassure him.

“I can show you where I grew up, where I went to school and…” Rayla kept talking until Callum stopped her by squeezing her shoulder.

“Rayla, something’s wrong.” His voice was laced with concern and hidden panic. Frankly, this looked creepy.

“What is it?” Rayla asked and followed to where Callum’s finger was pointing. It was pointing at the other elves.

“They have no faces,” Callum said. Their eyes, eyebrows, nose and mouth were all missing. Instead their face was just a smooth surface, creating hauntingly nightmarish images.

“Oh, no. Oh, no!” Rayla’s both hands clasped over her mouth in horror, her eyes going astronomically wider and her pupils doing the same.

“‘Oh, no’ indeed,” Francis murmured with a vengeful tone, looking miffed at the surroundings and bitterly removing his cloak.

“What’s happening? What’s wrong with them?” Callum looked at Rayla hoping for a coherent answer.

“It’s not them, it’s me,” Rayla uttered her words like a self-imposed death sentence. “I’m… a ghost!”

“What does that mean?” Callum asked, despite having a feeling that he could guess. Rayla didn’t answer. She walked away to the side and slumped on the rocks that were there, remaining scarily silent. Callum looked around at the faceless elves. He wasn’t sure what to do. “Hello? Anyone?” He waved his hands around and even tried to touch them, but there was no reaction as his hand simply fazed through.

“It’s no use, Callum,” Francis gravely said, as a terrified Zym burrowed under his cape clinging into his back. “Rayla is a ghost, she’s magically banished, and since we came in with her they don’t see neither her nor us.”

“So what can we do?” Callum asked, determination bubbling in his eyes.

“I’m trying to figure that one out,” Francis stared pensively at the ground. “We are in some sort of pocket projection and nothing we interact with has an effect on the actual village.” Francis thought out loud to himself as he walked off past the fountain and sat underneath a spiral staircase that led up a tree.

Removed from the plane of the living and deep in calculating thought, Francis looked terrifyingly blacker than the clothes that he was wearing, infuriated by the injustice his friend received, ready to blow down everything in his path. Callum was encouraged to know that Francis was just as outraged by it as he was and he knew that it was best to leave him to figure it out on his own. At the moment there was only one person that couldn’t be left alone.

* * *

Rayla sat with her head hanging, her eyes closed off, hiding them from the reality before them. She shut herself from everything and everyone. Barely anything could reach her now harrowingly empty core. Maybe if she didn’t move nothing would ever be able to see the shame that she brought, the dishonour that she was. After all this time, she did her utmost best to not follow in her parent’s ghosted footsteps, but despite everything, she ended up like them.

They have assumed that she had abandoned her mission, just like her parents did with the Dragonguard. They have thought that she had inherited the seed of weakness. They awarded her with the greatest punishment; a sentence worse than death. The sneers, the jeers, the rejections, the looks, she could feel them, hear them coming back to her, despite never having to face them ever again. She retreated further into despairing darkness, shutting off anything and everything. If she couldn’t feel anything then she probably didn’t exist to anyone, least of all herself.

For a very long time it was totally empty, she couldn’t hear anything. It was just her hiding behind her towering walls from the too painful reality, hiding away so that nobody saw her like this. Yet a persistent force was calling out her name. It desperately reached out to her and like the wind wanted to clear the blackened sky. A warm wind that brought some form of reconciliation, but she refused to let it fully in.

“Rayla, please say something!” She finally opened her eyes to Callum’s voice, his face looking scared and worried. He was kneeling down to be eye level with her.

“What is there to say,” she muttered dejectedly. “There is nothing we can do. My parents ran away and they all thought I did the same.”

“But you didn’t,” Callum urged and Rayla for the first time noticed that his hand was on her wrist. It moved up to her shoulder. “You never ran away from anything! They just don’t know what happened.” Callum looked hopeful and that hope immediately flooded through to her, convincing her.

“Yeah,” she said still a little doubtful however, though that doubt subsequently disappeared. “Yeah, it has to be a mistake. Come on, there is one person who will understand.” She ran off towards the tree and headed straight for the spiral staircase. She gave Francis a glance and considering his introspective presence, she decided to leave him to it.

“Who is that person?” Callum kept up with her.

“Do you remember the leader of the assassins, Runnan?” Rayla asked him.

“Uh, I think so,” Callum recalled. “He tried to kill me, didn’t he? He’s kind of tall, pointy and aimed a bow at me.” Rayla innocently nodded. It was easy to forget that they started as enemies at first. “He seemed nice,” he added and Rayla rolled her eyes at that.

“When my parents joined the Dragonguard,” she went ahead. “I went to live with Runnan and his husband, Ethari. They were my parents’ best friends and they took care of me for years. We are going to meet Ethari.”

“Will he be able to see you?” Callum asked as they came up to the door.

“He wouldn’t have done the spell,” she told him. “He always had faith in me.” She took a deep breath, convinced in the infallibility of her words and opened the doors.

They were treated to a carved out space inside the tree, with loads of tools and anvils placed around that indicated the use of the room. The room was exactly as Rayla remembered it seeing the last time. Ethari always kept it the same regardless of what he was crafting or forging. She saw his back hammering away at something on the desk at the end of the room.

“Ethari! I’m so glad you’re here,” she began, walking into the centre of the room. “There has been a mistake – they made me a ghost. You have to tell them that I didn’t run away, that I…” she stopped; Ethari wasn’t reacting, he only got up to retrieve another tool from the side. “Ethari?” She tried again and he turned. The warm hope in her body evaporated in an instant; she was greeted to a completely smooth surface of Ethari’s face. Her last hope had turned away from her… and her kindling embers died with it. “No! Ethari, not you, too…” she said defeatedly, crumbling to her knees. The empty void in her stomach was unbearably cumbersome, dragging her head and ears downwards.

“This isn’t fair!” Callum’s heart was still beating in defiance. “There has to be another way to get his attention!” She was able to feel a gale of wind pass her when he stormed unfalteringly over to Ethari’s desk.

“Callum,” she said, her hands limp and her back slumped, but Callum would not be stopped. This was pointless and she told him that… so why was he trying it anyway?

“Hey, Ethari was it?” She saw a cold determined look in Callum’s eyes, as he waved his hands in front of Ethari. “You didn’t even give Rayla a chance to explain herself.”

“Callum, it’s no use.” She reminded him again, dropping her head. She didn’t deserve this, she didn’t deserve Callum going out of his way to fight for her… so why was he doing it? For the mission? They could make it on their own – he knew that… so why was he so persistent in trying to get to Ethari?

“Listen to me!” Callum raised his voice and slammed both of his fists against the desk, speaking right into the faceless surface. “Rayla doesn’t deserve this!” Rayla saw Ethari stand straight up so quickly that the chair, which was more like a box stool, went flying backwards from underneath him. “I think it worked,” Callum concluded, his voice went back to normal.

Rayla looked at Ethari, for a moment in disbelief, as she thought Callum actually did it. Upon a second inspection however, she saw Ethari holding a sword he was working on. Through it, she saw Ethari’s shocked brown eyes. “The reflection! He can see me,” she stood back up and confronted him. “Yeah, I’m here. Surprised to see my face?”

“Can he hear you?” Callum asked.

“No, but he can see how I feel!” Rayla narrowed her eyes at Ethari to really send the message home.

“Rayla,” Ethari’s soft voice spoke and Rayla’s anger was completely put out from her face. “Before you left, I told Runnan that you were too goodhearted for the work of an assassin. So I know you did not betray them out of malice… but that doesn’t matter.” Ethari forcefully placed the sword down on the table, his back arching over it. “They’re gone. He’s gone, because you abandoned them.” He turned away and walked off to the side.

Rayla clenched her fists until they were bone white, her nails nearly made her palms bleed, but it didn’t come even close to a twisting dagger she felt at her heart when she heard those words. Feeling that her wet eyes would not hold anymore, she turned and ran away. She couldn’t let anyone see her like this.

She ran down the stairs, tripping over and tumbling down the last few sets of steps. She didn’t register the pain, the one at her heart clearly overpowering it. She looked up towards the fountain and went straight over to it, grabbing a few rocks. The sight confirmed Ethari’s words for her, only her enchanted metal flower was afloat; the other five had sunk – none of her team made it.

She wiped away the teary stream that formed at her cheeks and began to inexorably throw the rocks she picked up at her flower… and as if the world wanted to rub it in more than it already had, her normally accurate throws were off target.

Suddenly, she felt a strong calm hand placed on her shoulder. “Rayla, stop – don’t waste your time and energy on this.” Francis’s voice told her calmly.

“Haven’t we wasted enough time already? What’s a few more?” Rayla curtly replied and tried to shake him off, but his hand was like a vice grip.

“No, it wasn’t,” he was unwavering. “I gathered you stayed for so long, because you managed to talk to him through the reflection?”

“You knew that he ghosted me too, didn’t you?” Rayla bitterly shut her eyes.

“Ghostings are village wide, no one can opt out of it.” He said.

“Then why didn’t you stop us?” Callum’s grave voice came from behind her, making her and Francis’s heads turn to face him. For a moment, Rayla was scared. Callum looked like a sweeping storm before that, but now he was a full blown thunderstorm and now he wasn’t just threatening to blow anyone away… he was looking directly at Francis.

“You wouldn’t have listened to me; your hope would have muffled my words.” Francis told him evenly.

“So instead of letting us join you and think of what to do, you wasted our time by allowing us to go up there and get Rayla hurt!” Callum was raising his voice, his nostrils flaring up. “You sat here with Zym practically giving Ethari and the rest of Silvergrove a free pass for mistreating Rayla!” Lightning was threatening to shoot out of Callum’s eyes. Rayla felt Francis’s hand drop from her shoulder.

“Callum, this is my fault! Not Francis’s!” Rayla pleaded, trying to calm Callum down. “When I was the only one who remained alive, they thought I ran away, just like my parents did before me.”

“You didn’t!” Callum told her. “They have it all wrong and I don’t understand why we’re doing nothing about it and letting the whole of Silvergrove get away with it!”

“Does it matter?” Rayla asked with a dejected tone in her voice.

“Yes, of course it does! We can’t let them do that and instead of wasting our time we could’ve tried to do something!” Callum was adamant.

“Firstly, nobody in this village is going to get a free pass from me, least of all their council – the ones who impose all ghostings and did this in the first place.” Francis said firmly and intently, remaining cool despite Callum’s heat. “Secondly, Callum, calm down – we haven’t wasted our time.”

“What wasn’t a waste, then?” Callum challenged, but he sounded like he heeded Francis’s request.

“Your visit wasn’t,” Francis nodded behind Rayla and she heard Callum sigh, simmering his anger.

She hopelessly looked over her shoulder to the staircase. She gasped, Ethari made his way down it and walked over to the fountain towards Rayla. Francis backed off behind Ethari to let him stand right next to her. Ethari looked right at her, through the fountain’s reflection. Rayla was rooted to the spot, unsure of what to do. She thought that maybe he was going to reprimand her again… but instead she saw him offer her a hand. She hesitantly took it. As their palms made contact, a blue flash escaped their hands and Ethari’s face appeared across his dark skin.

“There you are,” he said genuinely, his brown eyes now radiating with love and sympathy. Rayla hugged him feeling much lighter than she had previously. “You know, I was never as strong as the others, so this will only break the spell for a moment. I couldn’t bear to let you leave without seeing you one last time,” Ethari’s eyes went sombre. “But I don’t understand Rayla, how could you abandon them?”

“I failed them,” she conceded. “It was my fault that they were discovered, but I didn’t run away. Ethari, we found something. Callum, show him!”

“Oh, uh,” Callum cleared his throat and approached her and Ethari. “I’m Rayla’s Earthblood elf,” he unfortunately put up his thick accent. “Trees to meet you,” he bowed down.

A confused beat passed over Ethari’s face, before he bowed as well. “Trees to meet you, too.” He played along.

“Don’t humour him.” Rayla told him, then looked expectantly at Callum.

“You forgot that I am the one who has Zym.” Francis’s voice came from behind them. Rayla felt Ethari jump slightly, as he cocked his head.

“Francis!” He said gleefully.

“Good evening,” Francis tactfully replied back.

“It has been four years!” Ethari shook his hand.

“Technically only three and a half years, but we’ll round it up to four.” Francis’s mathematical side glinted through.

“Oh, you and your scholarly pedantic ways,” Ethari lightly scowled. “Still the same cape and still the same young and hungry look on your face. Enjoyed your exploration of Xadia?”

“Yeah and meeting these two have been the highlight of everything.” He said earnestly, even making Rayla smile more than she already was.

“I must warn you that rumours of a green caped human travelling in Xadia… sorry, Eastern Xadia, have become quite widespread.” Ethari told him.

“I see, now all of Xadia heard of my grandfather’s green cape,” Francis said simply, before adding. “I hate to be impolite. I would love to catch up, but some other day. We’ve got Azymondias the Dragon Prince with us.” He showed Ethari the cute baby dragon.

“We found him,” Rayla said.

“They did,” Francis corrected her, nodding to her and Callum “I only found and joined them later.”

“The egg wasn’t destroyed,” Rayla didn’t acknowledge Francis’s intervention. “I knew that if we could get him home to his mother, there could be peace.”

“It’s a miracle!” Ethari proclaimed, as he reached out to touch Zym, as if to check if his eyes weren’t deceiving him. Zym passionately licked his hand in return. “I can’t believe it!” He said again, before his face suddenly fell. “You all need to know that the Dragon Queen is dying. Since the death of her mate she has fallen very ill.”

“We have to get to her, it’s the only way!” Rayla insisted.

“And the only way to the Storm Spire is through the Midnight Desert and we don’t have the means to travel through safely, so we are forced to go around it.” Francis hinted.

“Who’s do you want?” Ethari picked up.

“Mac’s,” Francis replied, before adding lightly. “He still owes me for nearly blowing my cover.”

“Right,” Ethari chuckled. “Luckily for us, he has a big mouth and so I know how to call his mount.” Ethari whistled three distinct times. Rayla recognised his and Runnan’s calls… the third one must have been Mac’s. Two prideful Moonstriders and a majestic Shadowpaw rode out towards them. They all had black fur and while the Moonstriders had light blue feathers sticking out from around their foxy faces, the Shadowpaw had a lion’s night blue mane running down its neck.

“Thank you, Ethari,” Francis said.

“I’ll send a message to the Dragon Queen,” Ethari announced. “If she knows that her little one is still alive, then perhaps she will hold on.”

Rayla certainly hoped so. She felt that their restricted time was running out, so when Ethari handed her the reins she took them wordlessly and hopped onto her Shadowpaw, feeling the heaviness creep in. She watched Callum struggle with mounting his Moonstrider, but he eventually was able to keep balance… with Francis’s help, who handed off Zym to him.

“Ethari,” she uttered, feeling heavier by the second. “Can I ever come home again?”

“I don’t know.” Ethari sighed.

Francis suddenly jerked, as if he remembered something or got reminded. “Ethari,” he wanted to quickly say something, so Ethari turned to momentarily face him. Francis whispered, so that only Ethari could hear him. It was mostly Francis talking and Ethari nodding decisively, but no matter how hard Rayla tried to eavesdrop, she couldn’t make out a single word. Finally, Francis finished speaking and he solemnly swore. “Promitto.” He put a hand across his chest on his heart.

Ethari’s eyes went wide, as his jaw dropped slightly. Rayla’s eyes copied Ethari’s. It was the Rex Draconis Promise, an oath of the highest level, one that was never ever taken lightly and thus never meant to be broken under any circumstances. Doing so was considered the most cowardly and traitorous act imaginable that brought so much dishonour that it was impossible to ever come back from and in most cases it would get you executed. She was left wondering at what Francis promised: over what would he be willing to risk his life, his reputation for? What made him feel so strongly convicted that he was compelled to make that oath?

Ethari bowed his head to Francis and turned back to Rayla. He removed his moon opal around his neck and placed it around Rayla’s. “This is a real Moon Opal,” he told her. “When I gave its match to Runnan, I told him, ‘My love will be with you, even when the moon is not’.” Rayla protectively clutched the opal as if it was the most brittle thing in the world. It was the remaining thing she had of Runnan and soon to follow Ethari. She knew what words would come out next out of his mouth and braced herself for them. “Goodbye, Rayla.”

Another blue flash… and Ethari’s face was gone. The heaviness returned in the pits of her stomach, as she exhaled with exhaustion. She put on a face, as Francis set off without further comments, leaving her and Callum trailing. The three of them disappeared into the darkness of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, I'm not sure if what Francis did with the whole leaf gliding thing is even possible, since he didn't have a harness to support his weight. But hey it looked cool in my head when imagining it, so I think the rule of cool applies. Thank you, again for reading thus far. In the next chapter we'll get to see our favourite little boy too-smart-for-his-age Ezran being a King.


	20. The Cost of Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ezran spent, two days on a non-stop galloping banther, in order to reach Katolis. Back where everything had started things couldn't be more different as he was now King Ezran. What challenges would he face? Who was friend and who was foe?

Over the course of two days Ezran got used to falling asleep on the galloping banther. It became very lulling at one point, especially when Corvus held him, making sure he wouldn’t fall from the banther and making him very warm. Ezran’s mind focused on the destination, but no matter how far away he got from the border, his departure two days ago still remained fresh in his memory. He very much wished that Callum, Rayla, Francis and Zym were all still here or that he was still with them in Eastern Xadia, but instead he was facing the gates of Katolis without them, returning to where it all started.

* * *

Seeing nothing but the dim light, a man sat inside a prison cell with his hands cuffed in chains that led to the middle of his cell. He looked withered, as his head rested on his hands, supported by his knees. His grey hair matched his wrinkly skin, as his back hunched in the corner. He was freakishly still and one could have considered him to be a dead corpse, especially since his eyes were shut, but he was very much alive. The gloomy and defeated sight of the former High Mage was further unsettled by a caterpillar crawling out of his ear.

“Do not despair, Viren,” the caterpillar told him. “You have set things in motion… now we just wait.”

* * *

A third day had dawned upon Ezran since him leaving his friends. Sleeping in his own room, in his bed again felt a little weird, with all of the roughness he went through of sleeping out in the wild. It wasn’t difficult for Bait to wake him. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he recalled his last night’s arrival, as he glanced at his crown that laid unceremoniously on the chair to the side. He refused to have an official coronation, the chains of exhaustion pulling him towards the bed. Lady Opeli however insisted that he took the rightful crown that she still officially presented.

To most people, this would have been a triumphant moment, but Ezran felt incredibly small just looking at the circular headpiece with two vertical strips at the front, representing the uneven Katolis towers. This small headpiece was a heavy burden that was forcefully and prematurely bestowed upon him… and being a king was nothing how he had imagined it to be.

Ezran carried the crown in his hands, as he was accompanied by the guards to the throne room to begin his first official day as king. As he walked down the hallway, past the towering wooden doors and the grand looming windows, Ezran observed the castle with greater detail that he had when he arrived… or even when he had before the whole adventure.

As a child, which he still was, he never bothered to look up at the ceiling much. Only now he realised how high the ceilings were, how empty the rooms felt, as a draft filled the emptiness. It screeched and howled at him, ruffling his hair quite a bit. He wondered how much magic would his older brother be able to find in this castle, in this draft. He then wondered if Rayla had been to this part of the castle. Where exactly did she meet Callum? It all seemed so long ago… in fact, he already referred to his life before discovering the egg as his childhood, such were the numerous changes that happened rapidly over the two week period. He wasn’t sure however how to call his new period post dragon egg… the growing up-hood?

The longer the silence dwelled, the more Ezran realised that his mind drew to his friends; away from the castle. A place he once called home felt small compared to the rest of the world beyond it and Ezran was even tinier than the castle. If Ezran felt like that after only two weeks, he wondered how Francis, who frequented the place, would have felt about it and his home after four years.

There was also a strange sense of foreignness to the place… he had a feeling that something or rather someone was missing – his dad. His absence stood out like a banther in a town would and it stood out in the most peculiar of ways – by constantly reminding itself in everything Ezran did. He was aware of the fact that his father’s presence, his aura, was everywhere around him in the castle, even in Ezran’s own face when he looked in a mirror that morning, but Harrow was never truly there.

It was especially present in the throne room and the throne that Ezran was now sitting upon, with the crown to the side. It seemed to him that others in the High Council meeting were getting a similar feeling. Everyone was suddenly nice, polite, careful and overly considerate in his treatment. Barius, the baker, offered him jelly tarts on the way to the throne room and said he could have as many as he wanted… that never ever happened before. The guards had a smile that Ezran saw them give to King Harrow many times before. The councilmen looked on with their training eyes like they did whenever King Harrow passed before. What made Ezran rueful was that he remembered how others looked and what others did whenever his father was around, but he didn’t pay too close attention to what his father did in return, as king.

He could feel their expectations, but Ezran had no idea what to do or how to do it. Only Corvus, who needed to be specifically requested to the ongoing council meeting, and Lady Opeli seemed genuine whenever they interacted with him. Marcos too perhaps, he didn’t look at him any different than before, there wasn’t anything artificial in his demeanour. Ezran tried to take his mind off this distracting notion and go about his first order of business.

The Crow Master announced that he had four hundred and seventy-one messages… eventually Ezran would have to get through all of them, at least they could start with the ones that were marked urgent. During some of the messages, Ezran let his mind trail back to his friends. Since Rayla was outspoken, she would certainly lack patience to keep up with the courtroom’s proprieties and would find it extremely boring how much effort and attention was brought to the most pettiest of things… and in all honesty Ezran was struggling too. Callum would probably remain quiet during the process, trying to address and give time to everything that came his way… and Ezran really wanted to help everyone he could, but there were so many people in need and so little time. Francis was the midpoint between those two approaches. In fact only Francis in Ezran’s mind had the perfect balance between blatant honesty and patient deliberation. He managed to find a balance between being a thinker and a reflector on some occasions and being the man of action on other occasions. Despite the contrasting natures, those notions seamlessly synergised inside of him, something Callum and Rayla didn’t seem to possess… at least yet. Perhaps it was a lack of experience or maybe the other strategies suited specifically Rayla and Callum better or maybe they were brought up differently. In any case, Ezran wasn’t sure where he stood in all of this, what to and not to do, how to and not to react. He wasn’t sure how he wanted to go about it.

“Oh dear… I… uh,” Ezran was brought out of his mind by the Crow Master’s stammering over a scroll he was holding out.

“What’s wrong?” Ezran asked curtly and impatiently, holding back a yawn.

“I’m not comfortable with reading some of these things out loud.” The Crow Master’s evading eyes backed up his words.

“Well, can you summarise?” Lady Opeli asked.

“Some bad events happened,” the Crow Master pointed out the obvious. “Maybe we should just wait for the Crow Lord to…”

“Ugh, give me that.” Lady Opeli unceremoniously snatched the scroll from him and her eyes looked over the message.

“This one also has similar… bad events,” the Crow Master held out a different scroll he opened when Lady Opeli was reading.

“Assassins.” She stated to Ezran as she summarised the contents of the letters. “There have been successful attacks in other kingdoms… King Florian and Queen Fareeda are dead and King Ahling is gravely injured. It appears that Xadia is waging war on all of humanity.” Ezran was horrified, as muttering took over the room, but before he even had a chance to recover, the doors opened.

“Your Majesty,” a soldier’s voice interrupted the meeting, leaving Lady Opeli and Marcos looking angry at the disturber, but the soldier went on. “We’ve arrested two traitors and require the king’s judgement immediately.” The soldier stepped aside and cuffed Claudia and Soren were thrown into the throne room. Soren’s crutch went flying to the side and he grunted as he landed on his front. He was unable to stand on his own so he only remained kneeling.

“We are not traitors!” Claudia protested as she stood up.

“What’s going on? Why are they in chains?” Ezran got off his throne and ran towards the crutch picking it up and headed towards Soren.

“Your Highness,” the soldier blocked his path. “They are dangerous, you shouldn’t approach them.”

“These are my friends!” Ezran defied, as he managed to walk around the soldier handing the crutch to Soren. He gave him a weak smile, but his head remained hanging just as he remained kneeling.

“They are Lord Viren’s children,” the soldier spoke.

“So what?” Ezran returned to the throne. He felt outraged by the way his friends were being treated.

“The High Mage is in prison for treason.” Lady Opeli explained. “We suspect they were involved in his conspiracy.”

“What conspiracy?” Claudia squeaked with her screeching voice. “When dad sent us after the princes…”

“‘Sent after the princes’?” Lady Opeli questioned, her suspicions backed.

“Oh… uh,” Claudia stammered, not really selling her case well. “‘Sent’ is a strong word. My point is, he wanted us to rescue the princes, not kill them!”

“No one here said anything about killing.” Lady Opeli glared, latching onto her words, as the room gasped.

“Exactly, that’s what I’m saying or… not saying,” Claudia really was doing a poor job of defending herself. “Ugh, Soren, say something! Tell them we did nothing wrong!” Soren only looked away to the side, his head still hanging shamefully, his silence – guilty.

“King Ezran, they need to be locked away. Give the order.” Lady Opeli insisted.

“But… I’m not really sure what they were trying to do,” Ezran stated.

“Ezran, please, we talked about it,” Claudia pleaded.

“Silence!” Lady Opeli ordered. “My king, you need to make a decision.”

“Okay,” Ezran sighed and turned to the throne, staring distressingly at the crown. “Let them rest while I decide and give them some food.”

“This is a mistake,” Lady Opeli pressured. “They are too dangerous, you can’t just release them.”

“Fine, fine,” Ezran gave in, ill-temper constricted only in his dismissing waves. “Keep the chains on, until I can make up my mind.” He looked away from the crown back to his chained friends. “I’m sorry,” he said to Claudia and Soren who were being taken away by the guards. As the doors closed, he looked dejectedly at the floor and quietly repeated. “I’m sorry.”

* * *

“Ugh, how long are they going to keep us here?” Claudia paced in circles in the cellar, where they got temporarily locked away. “We’re prisoners in our own home!”

“At least we got bread,” Soren looked on the bright side, then lightly continued, as he chomped down on the baguette he held. “Are we going to get bread in the dungeon?”

“We’re not going to the dungeon, Soren!” Claudia seethed. “We didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Claudia, I told you, dad wanted me to kill the princes,” he said whilst stacking three baguettes on top of each other. “That means we’re guilty… at least I am.”

“No, you’re not,” Claudia was adamant. “I don’t know if you misunderstood or mis-remembered, or mis-listened, but there’s no way dad would tell you to do that.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Soren’s shoulders dropped, just like his faux-cheeriness. “Dad’s in prison and everyone’s telling Ezran we’re guilty.”

“Ezran thinks for himself. He’ll see through this mess and he’ll do the right thing.” Claudia finally noticed what Soren was doing with his bread. “Why are you stacking the bread like that?”

“It’s a bread sandwich.” Soren simply said, biting into it.

* * *

Marcos as one of the company commanders had responsibility in being present on High Council meetings and just like King Ezran’s, this was his first one as well. He felt sorry for the child, his very first day as king was intense and had already brought hard decisions and painful headaches. The world was merciless and instantly thrown him into the deep end. Since Ezran was king he was the one who had to call all of the shots, he didn’t have a regent. At least now he would get his break and would get to recharge before tackling the problems that were set before him.

“King Ezran, a visitor has arrived,” a guard told him. Well, the break had to wait a little bit longer. “Prince Kasef of Neolandia, King Ahling’s eldest son.”

The doors opened after the announcement. Behind an entourage of ceremonious looking guards with black and white flags, a tall young muscly man entered the throne room and boldly approached King Ezran. He was around Francis’s age, with olive skin and close-fitted black garments with golden edges. He had completely black hair that was tied in a ponytail. His straight back and sturdy shoulders towered over most people around, as he had his chin slightly raised.

Marcos straight away disliked the way his eyes constantly seemed to be above everyone else as he physically looked downwards on others, but it was not in his place to call his behaviour out. He was royalty after all, and royalty, as well as nobility and upper class people, did usually end up being proud and slightly smug due to their status.

“Prince Kasef,” King Ezran greeted as he and Prince Kasef bowed, before genuinely continuing. “I heard about what happened to your father. I’m so sorry.” Now there was a good-mannered and polite royalty.

“Thank you for your condolences,” Prince Kasef chose to speak rather formerly. “The tragedy of your father’s loss breaks my heart also, but the important thing is that we’re here now.”

“Yes, I’m happy to meet you.” King Ezran offered him a handshake. Prince Kasef, clearly taken aback by the unconventionally informal greeting, unconvincingly shook it.

 _King Ezran is an eight year old, can’t he accept that and just play along more convincingly? What harm was there in being so informal?_ Marcos was irritated, but he was not versed enough in the courtroom’s etiquette. It was more Francis’s thing, since dealing with people in various ways was kind of his expertise, and even he had a knack for breaking them when things got too unreasonably tedious.

“My army stands outside your city gates, at the ready.” Prince Kasef told King Ezran.

“At the ready? What do you mean?” King Ezran questioned.

“Forgive me,” Prince Kasef grunted. “Was it not a week ago your regent called on us to unite against the rising Xadian threat?” King Ezran looked at him confused, this was clearly all news to him. “Xadia has attacked the human kingdoms, all of us. There must be a proportionate response!”

“I’m sorry, but I’m kind of new at this,” Ezran nervously fiddled with his hands. “I’m not really sure what you mean. What kind of response?”

“War.”

“What? No,” Ezran passionately retaliated. “The people of the Human Kingdoms and Eastern Xadia want peace.” People clearly eyed Ezran suspiciously at the term ‘Eastern Xadia’, but that brought a smile on Marcos’s face. Francis definitely got his influence on Ezran, despite only being together for a couple of weeks and any reminder of his old friend brought a pleasant feeling to him.

“Am I missing something here?” Prince Kasef spread his hands and looked around at the High Council. “Why is the child on the throne now? Isn’t there an adult advisor I can speak with?”

“I’m right here,” King Ezran gritted his teeth. “You can speak with me.”

“If you can’t take action against Xadia…”

“Eastern Xadia,” King Ezran corrected him firmly, raising more eyebrows around the room.

“Then you have failed as a king,” Prince Kasef ignored the correction, before adding. “And you have failed as a son.”

Marcos saw red in his eyes and it killed him to see Ezran so disheartened and hurt after that comment, but his lack of self-confidence weighed him back, preventing him from letting his displeasure be known publicly.

“Enough!” Corvus clearly had no fear of showing his outrage at Prince Kasef’s comments, as he pointed his finger at him. “You may have a disagreement, but you are in the court of King Ezran!” Marcos saw Lady Opeli glare at Prince Kasef, while Bait stood by Ezran’s side, growling a threatening red at the teenage prince.

“Who are you to interrupt a royal discussion?!” Prince Kasef shouted.

“I’m Corvus, I was specifically requested. May I remind you that although King Ezran is much younger than you, he is a king unlike you.”

Prince Kasef was seething red, but clearly couldn’t reply anything back. Instead he exhaled, cooling his temper. “I’m sure once King Ezran has had proper council, he will make the correct choice. I will remain in Katolis, awaiting your decision.” He turned around and the entourage left with him.

 _What an unpleasant young man_ , Marcos thought. He certainly wished to see less of him, but the man posed a new headache for the young king of Katolis. Before any further interruptions could happen, King Ezran took his chance and requested to be left alone. Marcos watched King Ezran head for the courtyard.

* * *

Ezran often saw Rayla, Callum and Francis, especially the latter two, occasionally stare into the distance, drifting in the vessels of their own mind… although, Callum was mostly daydreaming, rather than contemplating something. Ezran decided to do the same tactic as his friends. Unfortunately the battlements were in the way, so instead he laid on his back staring into the blue sky… but all he saw were clouds, with the blue sky only occasionally peering through. This wasn’t helping in making his mind straight… at the very least he was recharging from today’s events.

 _That guy is an idiot,_ Bait croaked at him. _Stop being so harsh on yourself!_

 _That’s not the point, Bait,_ Ezran thought to him. _I could have done better!_

“May I join you?” The voice of Lady Opeli unknowingly interrupted Ezran. 

“Sure. Have a seat,” he waved on.

“May I ask how you came by the term ‘Eastern Xadia’?” Lady Opeli asked, kneeling beside him.

“Francis,” Ezran replied calmly and she nodded. “He sees our world as one giant continent with an unfortunate scar dividing it in half.”

“Yes, he had a different way of seeing things, seeing the world around.” Lady Opeli reminisced. “He was told countless times that he overthought things and he did do that occasionally, but ever since he left, I realised that he very often was able to see what others simply couldn’t. Sometimes it was buried quite deep beneath the surface and the connections and correlations were hard to perceive, but other times, quite commonly in fact, it was so obvious that it was right in front of our very own eyes… and everyone still somehow did not see it, either willingly or not.” She glanced away, as she reminisced. “I always thought it was madness to comment on the entire kingdom’s system simply based on the castle’s library. How could the central hub of knowledge, as he often put it, affect the way we ruled, the way everyone went about our daily lives? It felt like a mighty unreasonable jump, but it never was a feeble and non-existent connection. If our minds are a mess, then everything we do is crooked.”

“Knowledge is the greatest currency we possess and books, the greatest bank.” Ezran said sagely. “Intellectual curiosity is therefore the greatest reason for us to learn.”

Lady Opeli smiled at him looking at his wavy hair. “He has had an influence on you, despite it only being two weeks,” she concluded, before abruptly moving on. “I also noticed that you aren’t wearing it.”

“Wearing what?” Ezran tried to pretend that he had no idea what she was talking about, but she clearly didn’t buy it.

“Ezran, the crown is a heavy burden to carry.”

“There is so much happening,” Ezran sighed. “I don’t know what to do.”

“There is no shame if you aren’t ready yet,” Lady Opeli put a hand around his shoulder. “No one blames you for being a child.”

“I feel like I’m letting everyone down.” Ezran confessed.

She looked at him pensively for a moment. “There may be a way out,” she stood up. “There are capable people around you who can take up the burden of ruling for a few years while you… just focus on growing up.”

“You’re saying,” Ezran paused, he swore he could remember Francis teaching him this term. “… a regent?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “Someone you trust. You choose who it is. For a few years. The crown will be here for you when you’re ready.” Lady Opeli gave him a warm smile. “Just think about it.” She bowed and left him alone. It was a lot to handle, there was no denying that.

“What do you say, Bait? Do you want to be my regent?”

 _I would be a tyrant_ , he croaked back, rolling on his back.

“I agree.” Ezran rubbed his belly.

He thought about the people he trusted, who he would love to ask to be his regent, but none of them were here. In truth, there was only one person who Ezran thought to be the best option in this case and generally he would make a great king, but he didn’t choose that path. Wouldn’t it be great to just offload all of this responsibility to someone else, while he got to have fun? Then what was the point of coming back in the first place? No, his team in Eastern Xadia relied solely on him. He couldn’t fail anyone: not Francis, not Callum, not Rayla who all loved him. The future of the world perhaps relied on him as well… and he wouldn’t let the choices of others write his own destiny and affect how he returned to the crown. He didn’t want someone else’s misjudgement lead him into unfavourable situations. If anybody made mistakes, then he wanted it to be his, because no matter how difficult it was and it would get, he would only grow from those mistakes.

* * *

There was not much to do in the cell, apart from sit and wait… or lie and wait… and Viren was now doing the latter. It seemed that sunset was upon them so he was trying to get a head start on getting some sleep on this uncomfortable wooden bench.

_There, there, he was finally still enough._

Viren felt the caterpillar slowly crawl up his face, he didn’t appreciate the fact it moved so much around his body, but he was too weak to shake it off and his hands were chained so it was difficult to do so.

_The caterpillar made its way on Viren’s brow and forcefully opened his right eyelid. Now he just required some patience and caution from both him and Viren._

“What are you doing?” Viren shot up, startled and terrified by the fact that the bug was in his eye. It definitely did not feel particularly nice on his eyeball. Why did his hands even needed to be chained up right now?

_“Preparing you for greatness,” Aaravos said through the caterpillar, then proceeded with a slightly more forceful tone. “Now, lay back down and be still.”_

Viren panted for a little longer and reluctantly laid back on the bench. He couldn’t stop himself from shuddering and groaning as the caterpillar travelled around his socket, laying out a sticky thread that slowly connected the top and bottom of his right eye. After a while, there were so many threa _d_ s that _Vir_ en slowly felt his top _eye_ lid be _ing_ _forcefully_ pulled _togeth_ er. _His rig_ ht ey _e wa_ s _finall_ y _clo_ sed and _the last brush_ e _s_ _were being done. The caterpil_ lar r _emoved the excess thread._

_“Open your eye,” Aaravos said. He watched Viren sit up and do so. A nice layer of thread covered his right eye, that was opaque enough for it not to be immediately obvious especially in dim lighting. “You can hear me and now,” a smoky transparent white projection appeared in front of Viren. “You can see me,” he did a little bow. “And I can better serve you.”_

* * *

The setting sun was washing over the throne room. King Ezran had invited the High Council and Prince Kasef for an unspecified announcement, but he was taking a long time. Marcos stood right next to the cuffed Soren. He was still in sore need of an extra support even with his crutch, such detrimental were the slowly healing injuries. Marcos had his shoulder underneath his arm, while Claudia held him up from the other side. Soren may have been accused as a traitor and he was sometimes an overly pompous character, but Marcos never forgotten their bond, the time they fought side by side in the tournament, the times they sparred and trained together. He was a good man, after all.

Marcos wondered how Soren managed to obtain the injuries, but Soren was hesitantly quiet over spilling the details. All he said was that he got in a fight with a dragon and that was it. Marcos sensed that he didn’t tell the full story, in fact if he got this badly injured, then how did he even survive? Soren’s face constantly looked downcast at the floor, avoiding Marcos’s keen eyes. Then it suddenly moved to face the doors. They were opened.

Marcos saw King Ezran, who looked like he had gathered great grit for this moment as he exhaled, enter the throne room. He walked towards the throne, with Corvus standing guard by the side of it. Ezran was occasionally glancing at the crown that laid beside it on the other side, still a stranger to his head and hair.

“Have you given thought to what we have discussed?” Lady Opeli politely asked, when Ezran arrived by the throne.

“I have and I have something to say,” Ezran took a deep breath, as he prepared. His earnest blue eyes looked over the rest of the throne room. “All of you knew King Harrow as a great king. He was a leader, a warrior and a champion, but I knew him as my dad who loved me, my brother and our mother… and he sometimes told really bad jokes.” A sombre, melancholic smile appeared on Ezran’s face and that expression spread to other people, Marcos, Soren and Claudia including. Ezran composed himself again. “I didn’t see everything he had to do as king, but I do know that my dad had to make very hard decisions, for which he and he alone held the responsibility. Unfortunately no matter how hard he tried, some of the consequences are still echoing and affect others, including me, who had nothing to do with them in the first place. Me, a kid, who hasn’t fought in any battles, who hasn’t read many books of wisdom yet. I haven’t gone through the things that made my father the king he was, but I hate the fact that some of the decisions I have to make, that were bestowed upon me, weren’t a direct result of my actions. So I’ve decided…” he took another deep breath. “… that I don’t have to be the king my father was. My father made choices to keep fighting battles started hundred years before he was born… and by which side? We don’t even know for certain anymore! He made the choice to punish enemies for crimes their parents committed. I don’t want to be that kind of king.” Ezran looked dead into Marcos’s eyes. “Set them free.” He ordered and Marcos without a moment of hesitation uncuffed them, despite the stunned gasps. “Soren and Claudia will not be punished for the mistakes their father made.” Ezran turned to Prince Kasef. “Katolis will not wage war on Eastern Xadia,” he said with equal spirit. “I’m sorry about what happened to your father and what happened to mine, but we don’t have to avenge them. We don’t have to strike back. We can choose peace.” More gasps and mutterings echoed around the room as looks of disbelief and sour disapproval on Councilman Saleer’s face were shot around the room. King Ezran continued speaking to Prince Kasef. “In fact I offer you something that is better than just peace. I offer you hope, not just to you alone but to the whole of Xadia. The dragon egg that Eastern Xadia thought was destroyed is in fact alive and has already hatched. Eastern Xadia has started this war because they still think it is destroyed, but my brother, Francis and an elf, named Rayla, are bringing it back to its home to stop the war.” The news stunned the whole room.

 _So, Francis was right all this time_ , Marcos thought. Back at Banther Lodge his deliberations turned out to be more than just wishful thinking and now he was heading straight towards his previously seemingly unattainable life’s goal with great strides. A step in the right direction, just from a simple chance he decided to take.

“There can be peace, we just have to believe in it.” King Ezran insisted.

“You’re a little boy putting hope in fairy tales,” Prince Kasef shot him down unkindly. “You couldn’t have come up with anything more outlandish? An elf with a human prince and with a traitor no less? They probably have your brother hostage!”

“How dare you speak to the king and his friends like that?!” Corvus moved from his spot.

“Francis is no traitor!” King Ezran squared up to Prince Kasef, despite the dwarfish size when compared to him. Prince Kasef took a step back clearly stupefied by King Ezran’s actions, as the whole room buried in stunned silence.

Marcos was unable to move, too hesitant and unconfident to stand up with Ezran, lest he brought the whole room’s attention to himself also. That weight was almost suffocating Marcos as he had no option but remain an observer to the ongoing dialogue.

“He ran away; He is a coward!” Prince Kasef objected viperously.

“He is the bravest, most selfless man I have ever seen and known,” King Ezran didn’t back down. “At the age of fourteen, he left his home and everything he knew and loved to explore the unknown hostile lands of Eastern Xadia, just because he wanted to learn! Four days ago he stood in front of a dragon, prepared to fight it, risking his own life, just to protect Soren’s!”

Everyone’s baffled eyes twisted to Soren. Weren’t they supposed to be bitter rivals, almost enemies? Marcos saw Soren silently look down, not commenting on the validity of those words, but he didn’t need to – his silence was telling enough. Soren looked lost and uncertain and Marcos thought that perhaps Soren was torn over something, maybe even questioning his relationship with Francis, doubting his stance.

Marcos also doubted Francis’s goals, he thought them to be unrealistic and Francis didn’t strongly deny that, often commenting about his idealistic nature. But if Francis turned out to be right after all this time and proved his doubters and opposition wrong, then shouldn’t they do something and act in support, following in his stead. Francis didn’t seem to be the only one who thought about peace and coexistence and stood up for the cause. He wasn’t alone anymore, as King Ezran fearlessly stared down Prince Kasef.

“You don’t need to throw me out; we’re finished here.” Prince Kasef concluded seeing as he would be unable to convince the king otherwise. He stormed out of the throne room, slamming the door on his way out. A moment passed giving the chance for everyone to catch their breath after a heated discussion.

“King Ezran,” Lady Opeli finally broke the silence, as she spoke genuinely. “I admire your courage, but peace requires just as much strength as war. Are you prepared to defend it?”

“I am.” Ezran proclaimed, as he took the crown and placed it on his head.

* * *

Aaravos carefully watched over the thread in Viren’s eye to make sure it stayed on. Despite not knowing where he was, he could still tell everything about the world outside and foresee certain aspects of it. The stars never lied. He felt them pass by over him, as the sun purged the night sky away. Later, he felt the morning sun’s position. Finally, they were coming down the staircase.

“Get up,” he told Viren, who was still slumped and withered. “Get up.” He told him more forcefully. “You have visitors coming. You’re going to need to look presentable.” The Sunray Monarch perfectly timed its entrance, as it flapped its hot pink wings through the hole in the ceiling and landed on Viren’s hand. He glanced at it in disbelief, but he didn’t waste time in using it to restore his appearance.

Through his apparition, Aaravos looked at the door that opened at the end of the hall and inspected the two people that entered it. Just as expected one of them was lame. Not as badly as he saw him before, at least he only needed his crutch in order to move around… yet none of that mattered to him. Viren’s son was insignificant to Aaravos’s plans, he was already useless when it came to his intellect, but with the inability to fight, he was now just a waste of space. No, what really intrigued him was Viren’s daughter. She looked to have great potential buried within her, that might be proven to be essential in the future.

“Remember, whatever you do, your daughter needs to remain by your side.” Aaravos told Viren. He didn’t react to his words.

“My children,” he turned to them when they approached the bars of his cell. “I’m so glad to see you safe.”

“What happened, dad? Why are you down here?” The daughter asked, Claudia her name was.

“While I tried to unite five kingdoms against Xadia, the Council was more concerned that I broke a few rules along the way.” Viren explained. “But none of that matters. Did you get the egg?” His children visibly stammered and guiltily evaded his eyes.

“It’s not an egg anymore,” Claudia stammered. “It hatched.”

“It hatched?” Viren repeated, an unimpressed and frustrated tone creeping in his voice. He needed to be careful. “That dragon will become the most powerful creature in the world and you’ve let it fall back into Xadia’s hands?”

“But, dad, Soren could’ve died…”

“That doesn’t matter!” He nearly shouted, as he pulled hard on the chain in frustration. Aaravos needed him to calm down, this would be detrimental to his plans. He wanted to intervene, but a different voice sobered Viren up and allowed him to compose himself.

“Dad?” Soren looked beyond shocked at his father. His cold cutting grey eyes terrified him.

Viren sighed, getting back his composed self. “I do not mean to be cruel,” he said. “But we must be ready to sacrifice. Even the things we love. I would have asked you to choose the egg over my life, if it came to it. Do you understand?” Viren was looking primarily at his daughter. “Everything I do, and everything I ask of you, is for the future of humanity.”

“Is that why you told Soren to kill the princes?” Claudia challengingly looked at her father. Aaravos saw a shocked expression on Viren’s face. He clearly didn’t expect Claudia to know that. He remained in stunned silence. “Answer me, dad!” Claudia pressured.

Aaravos needed Viren to come up with something: telling the truth would mean losing her; staying silent was also making it worse. “Careful. You will need her soon,” he warned Viren.

“Why did you tell Soren to kill the princes?” Claudia demanded. Viren held her gaze… and then burst out laughing.

“Oh, is that what you thought, Soren?” Viren looked at his son, who looked away. “Claudia, did you really think I would ask him to do such a thing? Surely you know your brother is…” he stammered, thinking of a fitting word. “… um, easily confused.”

“Wait, I know I’m not the smartest,” Soren said deflatingly, sinking further on his crutch. However suspicion was written on his face. “But I know what you said.”

“Oh, really? What do you remember?” Viren challenged him, smiling. He knew from the start to be careful with his choice of words.

“You told me to return with the news that the princes died,” Soren recalled. “You said that ‘accidents happen all the time’.”

“Soren, I was preparing you for the worst,” Viren insisted. “I knew that tragedy might have already befallen them, considering they were last seen with an elf.”

“Francis is with them too, so there was no chance anything bad would happen to them, considering what he did.” Soren said looking hurt at reminiscing over something.

Aaravos frowned at those words. That was a complication his plans did not need. Francis added uncertainty to his plans: he was never supposed to leave the training programme, he was never supposed to ever make it into Xadia, he was never supposed to have returned to the Human Kingdoms last month. He constantly defied the star’s prophecies and if he was on the opposing side, it presented an unpleasant challenge.

“How could you have possibly thought that?” Viren scoffed. “They were around a bloodthirsty elf who is an assassin and a traitor no less. It is a miracle they are alive, considering you also thought that I wanted you to kill them.”

“No!” Soren looked angrily away and it seemed that he was actually leaving. “You told me that I’d know to do the right thing!” Soren suddenly froze in his spot, realising the very words he uttered.

“Soren,” Viren exploited. “I said to ‘do the right thing’ and somehow you heard ‘kill the princes’. Oh this… this is disappointing son,” he shook his head disapprovingly, closing his eyes. “Even for you.”

“Claudia,” Soren looked pleadingly at her. “You believe me, right?”

She looked at him then back at Viren, then back at Soren. “Oh, Sor-bear,” she took his hand. “I believe you thought you heard, but you obviously made a mistake.” He looked even more downcast after hearing her say that. He might have switched off completely, not fully paying attention to her next words. “We’re just very lucky you messed up the mission you thought you had, huh?” Claudia tried to make light of the uncomfortable situation, but Soren only looked more dejected. He wordlessly turned around and limped to the exit, still relying heavily on the crutch. Claudia exchanged a concerned look with Viren and went after him.

The doors shut behind them and Viren was about to lie back down on the bench.

“Don’t rest yet,” Aaravos warned. “You have more visitors coming.”

* * *

Councilman Saleer determinedly walked down the spiral staircase towards the holding cells, with his guest following closely behind him. What he was doing might have been considered treasonous by some people, but in his mind he was doing the Human Kingdoms a favour. Neolandia, Evenere and Del Bar have suffered huge losses and King Ezran wanted to let those elves off the hook? It was outrageous for him to even think about the fact that the other prince was off in Xadia with a traitor and an elf! It was naïve and idealistic to even consider the prospects of peace and he couldn’t let King Ezran’s error slide. It may have been only one mistake but it was grave enough to not warrant a second chance.

Councilman Saleer would make sure to rectify it by having someone else who shared his hatred for Xadia. Someone who warned them of the incoming threats which were ignored. Someone who wanted to take action against Xadia. Coincidently there was another person who also shared some of those qualities, meaning he himself wouldn’t have to do much and thus would look less suspicious – it was a safe move.

Having paid off the guard, Councilman Saleer brought his guest to the holding cell with the man who was the solution to his problem. “High Mage Viren, I’ve brought you the son of King Ahling, Prince Kasef, who wishes to speak with you.”

* * *

Ezran sat on his throne, with Bait in his lap, going through more of his daily responsibilities. He wore the crown on his head and the king’s mantle in Katolis red. It was more of the same small monotonous issues that needed to be sorted out before they became too much of a problem. It took him the entire morning to go through all of the messages and now it was not too long before midday. He could finally have his break.

“Prince Kasef of Neolandia requests an audience.” Councilman Saleer announced.

 _Ugh, not this guy again,_ Ezran heard Bait think.

King Ezran reluctantly gave the signal to let him in. Prince Kasef apprehensively approached King Ezran and looked at him with an obvious hint of hostility.

“I’m here to deliver an ultimatum,” he said firmly. “That means I’m forcing you to make a final decision.”

_Look who’s talking, like you knew what that word meant before you rehearsed this. Your head is thicker than…_

“I know what an ultimatum is.” Ezran said calmly despite the clear irritation he felt. He also didn’t particularly wish to hear the very rude end to Bait’s sentence. Prince Kasef approached the war table with the map of the immediate area around Katolis castle set up on it.

“As you know, Katolis and Neolandia were not the only kingdoms that got attacked,” Prince Kasef continued speaking, as he took out the overwhelmingly numerous corresponding flags and placed them around the castle, encircling it. “The king of Del Bar and the queen of Evenere were slain. Their people are angry and want justice. They are ready to wage war on Xadia. Their armies have arrived in Katolis.”

“You dare violate our borders!” Lady Opeli exclaimed almost belligerently, her eyes ready to incinerate Prince Kasef on the spot.

“We do,” he replied, unfazed. “Here is your ultimatum: if you do not stand with us, then you stand in our way. King Ezran, we can show Xadia the strength and righteousness of the human kingdoms.” He intently approached King Ezran’s throne, but Corvus stood in his way stopping him from protruding any closer. “Four armies, joined as one!”

“Enough!” King Ezran shouted, he refused to be coerced and pressured by Prince Kasef. After all, only Katolis bordered with Eastern Xadia and only he could allow them a safe passage to it. “I’ve already told you that it’s Eastern Xadia and that Katolis will not wage war!”

“Then tomorrow at dawn, three armies will wage war on Katolis.”

_The nerve on this guy! He doesn’t even bother to hide a smirk!_

Prince Kasef turned around and left the room with those words. All eyes were trained on King Ezran, who looked a little shaken from the conundrum he found himself in.

“I need everyone to leave this room immediately.” King Ezran ordered.

* * *

Ezran approached the window that overlooked the courtyard and onlooked as Prince Kasef mounted his horse and left the premises, completely unfazed by antics he caused in the throne room. Ezran did not stop thinking about the whole incident even for a second, his mind devoted to the problem.

“King Ezran?” It was the voice of Lady Opeli… it seemed she was the only one who didn’t wish to leave him alone immediately. “Prince Kasef’s threat is terrible, but we can win.”

“What do you mean?” Ezran asked, as he turned and followed her towards the war table. He was afraid he knew the answer to that question.

“Your Aunt Amaya and your mother before her, saw to it that our army was the best trained and most disciplined force in the kingdoms,” she looked over the war table. “The coming battle won’t be easy, but we will triumph.”

“But at what cost?” Ezran inquired, looking at her.

“The necessary cost,” Lady Opeli sighed gravely. “Many lives.”

“How many?” Ezran insisted to know.

“No one can say for sure.”

“How many?” He asked again, angrily.

“I don’t know,” she closed her eyes.

“Give me an answer, a number,” Ezran was adamant.

“Thousands, probably tens of thousands,” Lady Opeli replied, finally looking him in the eye.

“That’s thousands and tens of thousands too many,” Ezran replied as he glanced at the Katolis flags on the table. “That’s no triumph.”

“It’s necessary,” Lady Opeli reminded him.

“Even if it is, it is still too much,” he objected. “Every life is precious.” He let a moment of silence pass over them and then requested. “I said I wanted to be left alone with my thoughts.”

“As you wish,” Lady Opeli bowed and left the room, leaving Ezran alone.

* * *

Ezran was lying on his front just at the feet of his throne, his head resting in his hands. One simple piece with a Katolis flag was lying in front of him.

 _You’ve been lying like that for hours now,_ Bait croaked, as he jumped on his back. _Let me do something for you._ He began to lightly stomp in places on his back giving him somewhat of a massage.

“Thanks, Bait, that helps,” Ezran gave him a small smile.

 _You’re welcome,_ Bait grunted back, then saw Ezran’s sad conflicted blue eyes trail back to the flag.

“Each one of these pieces is five hundred people,” Ezran told him, feeling the question coming up. “Five hundred men and women, some are moms and dads and have kids who are waiting for them at home.” Ezran sat up, picking the piece up in his hand. “All of these are sons and daughters, sisters, brothers, friends. They are real people, Bait.”

 _That is more than five hundred affected,_ Bait lamented.

“And after the battle,” Ezran placed the piece on the floor and knocked it over. “How can I let this happen?”

 _How far do you want to go for peace?_ Bait croaked.

“Forgive me, King Ezran,” Councilman Saleer interrupted. Neither Bait nor Ezran noticed how he entered the throne room and approached them. “There may be a way to prevent this bloodshed. You can save these lives.”

* * *

Marcos was sitting in his quarters, writing up another inspection report. This time of The Breach’s battalion that returned this morning. Commander Gren and Captain Fen have told him of what had happened at The Breach nearly three days ago and that General Amaya was missing, assumed to be almost certainly dead. Those news for the current moment were decided to be kept quiet, as they wanted King Ezran to settle into his reign first.

“Marcos?” It was King Ezran’s voice. Marcos dropped his quill and subtly hid the letter.

“King Ezran,” he shot up from his chair. “I apologise I have not heard you enter my room.”

“I apologise for that,” King Ezran looked guiltily to the side. “On second thought that was rude of me.” King Ezran held Bait in front of him. For the very first time Marcos saw that the glowtoad didn’t look grumpy and was instead genuinely sad. “I came to ask you a favour, something very important.”

“Of course,” Marcos said as he leaned in closer, kneeling down to be eye-level.

“If anything happens… I mean something may happen and,” Ezran stammered, he looked like he was holding back tears. “I need you to take care of Bait.”

“I am honoured and humbled.” Marcos took Bait, after Ezran held him just for a little bit longer. It felt like a farewell… and Marcos didn’t like that feeling. “Can I ask you a question?” Marcos asked and Ezran nodded, it seemed that he regained his composure. “What is going to happen?”

“Nothing,” Ezran lied, it was a little too obvious. “Okay, I don’t know. If anything does I just need you to take care of Bait… it may end up as nothing too serious. It will probably be nothing.”

“Okay,” Marcos decided to not press the kid too much. “Why did you choose me then?”

“I trust you. You care and don’t treat me overly different just because I’m the king now,” Ezran replied earnestly. “You went out of your way to search for me in the Banther Lodge and Francis did say a lot of good things about you,” a weak smile appeared on his face. “Including how you should stop going off on your own so many times, especially in an unfriendly territory.”

“Leadership is a rather lonely task,” Marcos smirked to himself. “Francis should also look occasionally at himself.”

Ezran’s eyes looked pensively to the side. “Can I ask you a question?” He asked and Marcos nodded. “Yesterday, when I spoke to the throne room about my decision, why didn’t you say anything about Francis? You’re very good friends with him.”

“I didn’t know what he was doing, what you were doing.” Marcos replied, only telling half of the story. “I didn’t know the mission that he set out on and so I didn’t feel compelled to intervene. Everyone knows that I am good friends with him.”

“But you weren’t surprised to hear that he was with us?” Ezran caught him out and Marcos remained guiltily silent. “I said there and then what they were trying to achieve and you still didn’t say anything.” Ezran called him out.

Marcos sighed, the kid was too clever for his age. “I was afraid of being singled out and sneered at,” he admitted, looking to the side, ashamed of himself. “I said that an elf spared me and everyone laughed at me, mocked me; no one believed me. I insisted that my section made way to the Banther Lodge and they just shunned me away, saying they don’t take orders from younger people, even though I outranked them. His own parents think he’s a traitor and they do not welcome any positive deed he has done, instead trying their best to move away from his image.” Ezran looked taken aback by that revelation, as even more sadness flooded his eyes. Marcos continued. “After all this time despite everything I say and do, no one listens to me and I have to pay every single time for standing up and saying the right thing. Everyone else just refuses to see anything different than just the simplest terms, the most surface level things, either black or white.”

“That is terrible and I don’t blame you for being afraid,” Ezran put a hand on his shoulder. “It was certainly scary to speak out then and I would be nervous to say it all again publicly,” Ezran confessed. “But if it needed to be said, I would do it again.”

“I don’t understand how Francis did it and still does it, how he managed to ignore and put up with their jeering.” Marcos reminisced the infamous meeting Francis had with the High Council. “How didn’t he get fed up with no one listening to him?”

“I don’t know, it’s very difficult and taxing,” Ezran agreed. “But he is tenacious. He bounces back and keeps going, without burdening others, so we should all do the same.”

“Hmm,” Marcos looked pensively at Ezran, as he deliberated out loud. “I guess he did get fed up since he chose to leave after his message fell on deaf ears.” Marcos shook his thoughts away and focused on Ezran. “You’re right, we shouldn’t give up and we should always do the right thing. It was very brave of you to believe in yourself and stand up for what you believed was right. I wish I supported you better in that moment and that people listened to you.”

“The right people heard me… and you’ll get your chance at some point.” Ezran said honestly. He looked back down at Bait. “Do you understand what he needs?”

“I believe the correct answer is an infinite supply of jelly tarts,” Marcos quipped, trying to lighten the mood.

“Yes,” a smile ghosted Ezran’s lips. “Thank you.”

Saying nothing more he waved a sad goodbye to him and Bait and left the room. Marcos had a feeling that something wasn’t right and looked at Bait who stared after Ezran through the window. He really hoped that whatever ‘may happen’ didn’t actually happen, as he was left to ponder over Ezran’s words.

* * *

“Ezran, you don’t need to do this,” Corvus begged and everyone ignored the fact that he didn’t refer to the kid by his title. “There must be another way.” The throne room was dimly lit with torches on the pillars, as night befell Katolis. The members of the High Council and some of the guards looked at Ezran’s back. He stood over the throne, facing it, with the crown on his head reflecting the weak torch lights. The king’s mantle was laid out neatly on the throne.

“Don’t worry, Corvus, I’ll be okay,” Ezran told him. He was bluffing, he didn’t know that for certain.

“King Ezran, are you sure?” Lady Opeli asked. “There will be no going back after that.”

“I know what’s right,” Ezran insisted. “I know what I have to do.”

Ezran heard the doors to the throne room open. Councilman Saleer returned and Ezran turned around, hoping that his final demand was accepted. “It’s agreed,” Councilman Saleer told him. “Everything you asked for.”

“The battle?” Ezran doublechecked.

“It has been called off,” he replied. “There will be no attack at dawn.”

“And what about the people who no longer wish to fight at all?” Ezran asked.

“They will be allowed to lay down their arms and return to their families in peace and safety, just as you insisted.”

Ezran turned to the throne. The necessary cost: not thousands and tens of thousands, but solely him. He removed the crown from his head and placed it on the mantle. “It is done,” he confirmed his abdication. Lady Opeli and Corvus looked at him ruefully, they did not like his decision, but it wasn’t up to them to make that decision.

“Take him,” Councilman Saleer ordered. The guards looked hesitant, so Ezran obediently held out his hands. They put the cuffs on him… Ezran sighed. Two days was how long he reigned for… he probably made so many mistakes, not even speaking of the fact how short his reign was.

He hung his head as he was lead down a spiral staircase, through the doors and towards his cell. Viren was sitting still on the bench, even when his cell door was opened. He didn’t hurry, when he was uncuffed. He slowly stood up and walked past Ezran, as his hands got locked in what used to be Viren’s chains. Ezran saw a malicious grin on Viren’s face. It disgusted Ezran to see someone revel in victory at the expense of someone else.

“I’m so sorry that it has come to this,” he had the gall to lie to him in front of everyone.

“No you’re not,” Ezran didn’t even dignify him with a look.

“No… I’m not,” he replied.

The cell door locked behind him as the guards and Viren left the holding cells. Ezran was alone in the cold, damp and unpleasant prison cell, lying on the wooden bench for what felt like hours, but it probably wouldn’t have broken the second hour mark. He wanted this day to just end, so that maybe he could just clear his head.

He looked at the set of bars in the ceiling that let in some of the light into his cell. The moonlight that reached through reminded him of Rayla. He hoped that her and the rest of the team were doing well in Eastern Xadia.

 _Hey!_ Ezran sat up and looked up at the ceiling. Bait’s face poked through. _Did you really think I would leave you alone for so long?_

“Good evening, I hoped you would be my first visitor!” Ezran said light-heartedly, despite his gloomy surroundings. “I wish I could come up there with you, but,” Ezran held out his hands and pointedly wiggled them, clanking the chains as a result.

 _Here, I brought you something._ Bait dropped a pile of jelly tarts from a tray he brought with him and then plopped through and landed on top of Ezran’s soft hair. _Don’t worry, Marcos knows I’m gone to see you and Barius was more than happy with getting you closer to diabetes. You should execute him for an attempt on your life._

“Aren’t you the one who takes three to four jelly tarts with one bite?”

 _I can, I’m old enough_ , Bait looked around at the cell and then at the pile of jelly tarts, that would probably serve as a pillow for the night, which in current circumstances was quite a luxury for him and Ezran. _Is this what prison feels like?_

“Right?” Ezran chuckled sinking his teeth into one of the numerous tarts… persimmon, his favourite. “This isn’t so bad.”

* * *

The morning sun licked Viren’s face back from his slumber. It was time. Councilman Saleer should have gathered all the important people and the crowd into the throne room. With a deep breath he put on his robes and quickly grabbed his staff and paced as quickly as he could down the hall. He went past all of the kings’ portraits that sunk their painted eyes into him towards the throne room. Today would be the day, the experience that got stolen from him long ago.

He opened the doors to the throne room. It was packed with all kinds of people. The High Council, Corvus, Prince Kasef and Viren’s children were all present, while numerous common folk crowded the sides of the room. His grand entrance was met with gasps… perhaps people finally noticed the thread that covered his right eye. He made his way to the centre of the room.

“Today is a new day!” Viren announced to the crowd. “Katolis has a new king and a new royal line.”

“Wait!” Came a voice from the crowd. Viren sighed in exasperation, of course it would be the stickler to the rules, Lady Opeli. “Lord Viren, King Ezran has abdicated, but just because he has stepped down, doesn’t entitle you to take his place.” She got right up to him, her narrow eyes cutting into him.

“Oh? And why not?” Lord Viren nonchalantly brushed off, looking from above.

“Because we have laws,” she replied, then turned to the crowd. “Our laws tell us that there is a way to choose a new royal line. It’s how we done things for centuries. Only orphans have a right to ascend!”

“My parents are dead, does that count?” Viren continued to undermine her, then took the stage. “Does anybody else here share Opeli’s concern?”

Silence. The whole room had absolutely nothing to say. Oh, this was too easy for Viren.

“Viren, you’re not above the law!” Lady Opeli exclaimed, protesting with her eyes and clenched fists.

“I’m afraid you have misjudged the situation terribly,” Viren walked away from her. There was nothing she could do. He approached the crown that was on the throne, that used to be Ezran’s, but was now his. “I am the law.” He placed the crown on his head and sat into the throne with a triumphant look on his face. He felt the caterpillar crawl up his back and burrow into his hair and behind his crown.

“All hail King Viren,” Councilman Saleer began to chant and everyone soon followed suit. “All hail the king!”

* * *

“Come on, it’s now or never,” Opeli felt Corvus pull her towards the exit.

“What do you mean?” She asked him.

“It won’t be long before he goes after traitors,” Corvus explained. “That’s us. We have to flee now.”

Opeli looked back with great deal of disgust at Viren. She wanted to fight back, but there was sense to Corvus’s words… and they seemed to be the only ones who were irked by Viren’s ascendance. They weren’t safe in the castle walls. She took Corvus’s hand and they went for the door, hoping the crowd would be enough to cover their escape… just as long as no one saw them.

“What do we do? Where do we go now?” Lady Opeli voiced her questions that were running in her mind out loud.

“The Kingdom of Duren,” Corvus replied quickly. “It’s our only chance to find help, since it was the only kingdom absent within our borders.”

Opeli ran down the stairs, with Corvus following closely behind her. She took a right turn and ran straight for the main exit. Guards! Before she could halt herself, Corvus grabbed her arm and pulled her in an opposite direction, but when they turned someone was standing in their way… Soren. He was trying his best to cover his panting, as he limped with a crutch still in his shoulder and a sword at the ready in his other.

“Do you really think you can stop us in this condition?” Corvus challenged. “You do know I will defeat you with ease.”

Soren looked uncertainly at him for little while, mulling something in his head. “Yeah, you probably would,” he said and sheathed his sword. Corvus and Opeli looked at him like he had grown a second head. He had never willingly conceded anything to anyone before. He would also never pass up a fight, even if he was outmatched or crippled in any way. “I’m here to help.”

“What?” Those were not the words Opeli or Corvus expected to hear from Soren, at all.

“Do you want me to repeat it slower?” Soren frowned, genuinely thinking he wasn’t clear. “I’m helping you escape.”

“Why should we trust you?” Corvus asked.

“Because,” Soren pondered. “Because what else are you going to do?”

“Run.” Corvus replied.

“Yeah, good point, you could run,” Soren scratched his chin. “Oh, I still didn’t rat you out to the guards behind you!” He pointed quickly behind him, like he had a revelation. Though he didn’t quite control his voice as he almost gave them away.

“Corvus, let’s go, he can’t stop us.” Opeli told him. “He’s wasting our time.”

“No, wait,” Soren used his crutch to block them, when they tried to pass him. “At least wait in the forest for Ezran.”

“Are you serious?” The surprises with Soren just kept coming. He did seem serious.

“It’s not right how my dad treated King Harrow’s only birth son and I want to correct that,” Soren said firmly, then continued quickly. “Turn right at the end of the corridor and behind the barracks there should be a way out of the castle. You should be able to slip out unnoticed. I’ll meet you soon after and in the evening I’ll bring Ezran with me. Now go!”

* * *

Soren watched as the two of them quickly depart, not wasting a second in heeding his advice. Soren then proceeded to run himself, as quickly as his body allowed him, as he occasionally used the crutch for an extra boost. Firstly, to the infirmary. He was getting really tired of his crippled upper half and any way to ease it would be perfect. Thankfully, there was no one there, so he quickly found willow bark and threw a few of them into his mouth, biting into it, and then subsequently left undetected.

He was coming up with things on the spot. He wanted to break Ezran out closer to the evening with less visible light… but then what would Ezran do afterwards? He would probably want to go to Xadia… or Eastern Xadia as he insisted on calling it, and re-join his brother, Francis and Rayla. He wasn’t safe within the borders of Katolis once his father found out Ezran escaped… so what was the quickest way to get to Eastern Xadia? Who could help him? If only there was a big bird or if only he knew of someone who had a big bird… wait, that elf lady from that place where they caught up to them.

Soren slammed through the door of the Crow Lord’s tower, nearly sending it off the hinges. “Crow Lord, I need your fastest crow to deliver a message.” Soren announced without wasting any time.

“Ah, the Crow Lord is still…” Crow Master wanted to say, but Soren cut him off immediately.

“Fastest crow and give me a piece of paper.” Soren impatiently told him.

“Yes, yes,” Crow Master conceded and handed him out a piece of paper. “Where are you sending the crow?”

“Cursed Caldera.”

“Okay,” Crow Master said, visibly uncomfortable.

“When will it get there?” Soren asked.

“Sometime before the afternoon.”

“Great! Give me one of those feather thingies.”

“A quill?” Crow Master asked.

“It’s made out of a feather, it’s the same thing,” Soren deflected, when he grabbed the quill.

The quill hovered over a blank piece of paper… he needed to be quick. Now, what was the elderly elf’s name?

 _Dear Moon Lady…_ Ah, now this would do.

* * *

Aaravos’s projection watched over Viren’s shoulder as he sat through the midday looking at the important scrolls and pieces of administration before going to Xadia. Today he would deliver an evening speech that would resoundingly motivate all of his soldiers before they went on the journey. His hard work however was about to be interrupted.

“Knock knock!” Claudia cheerfully announced her presence in Viren’s quarters. He acknowledged her only with his eyes, as he calmly picked up and read another letter. Claudia, noticing her father’s concentration, approached his chair silently, before noticing the little purple caterpillar that rested on his ear. “Oh, who’s your new friend?” She reached her hands out to touch it.

“Don’t!” Viren got up, pushing her slightly away from it. “Do not touch it.” He reasserted.

“Sorry, dad,” she sighed. “I just thought it looked cute.”

“No, I’m sorry.” Viren was quick to soften up after his brash response, as a smile broke through his face. “I’m just trying to get ready for our march on Xadia. Did you need something?”

“No! I was just making sure you were okay. I mean, you are okay, right?”

“Thank you, I’m fine,” Viren sighed. “Claudia, you understand why Prince Ezran had to be removed?”

“Of course,” she replied a little cautiously. “He couldn’t have done the things that need to be done.”

“Others might take the crown out of self-importance, but I,” Viren turned his face away from her. Aaravos saw his face twitch… like Viren realised or hesitated over something.

“You’re doing it to help us… to help everyone,” Claudia stated.

“Yes,” his twitched grimace fell instantaneously, looking almost relieved, as he turned back to face her. “Yes, that’s right. That’s why I know I can count on you, Claudia.” He held her chin upward, as he said that. She jumped into a hug, which Viren returned.

“Everything’s going to be okay, dad. I’m here for you.” She reassured one last time, as she pulled away and left the room clearly in greater spirits, as her entire demeanour lifted up and smiled.

Aaravos’s projection smirked, as it leant on the doors. “Well played,” he told Viren. “She will be a valuable asset.”

“She is not an asset,” Viren glared threateningly at Aaravos’s projection. “She is my daughter!” Aaravos’s smirk only grew wider.

* * *

It might have been late in the afternoon, it might have been getting close to evening… Ezran unsurprisingly lost track of time. He playfully rubbed Bait’s belly, that was inflated from the amount of jelly tarts he ate and his every burp smelled like persimmon. Prison didn’t seem so bad after all, especially with one of his best friends sticking by his side… just the two of them.

Ezran stopped petting Bait. He distinctly heard footsteps approaching his cell. “Bait, hide. No glowing!” Ezran quickly covered him and the remaining jelly tarts behind his back as he looked out of the cell.

A shadowy figure approached the cell door… did it have three legs? It unlocked the door. Ezran was scared that he was going to be taken somewhere further away… but his fear was replaced by surprise when the figure came under the sunlight from the ceiling. It was Soren, lightly leaning on his crutch. He greeted Ezran with a smile. “I’m here to help. I’m going to get you out of here.”

* * *

Soren’s plan got tweaked again, as Ezran showed him a secret passageway he never knew about, behind one of the hall’s paintings. He guessed that being a kid did come with natural energy and curiosity of exploring things around. He led the way down the stone corridor, with sky blue crystals in the walls providing the little light that was available.

“Why are you doing this?” Ezran suddenly broke the silence. “Helping us.” He clarified.

“Isn’t that what heroes do?” Soren tried to deflect, but felt horrible immediately about leaving Ezran in the dark.

“Yes, but not all heroes would risk being labelled a traitor especially if their father is king.” Ezran pointed out.

Soren sighed, the little kid was way too clever… even cleverer than him. That was enough for him to tell Ezran the truth. He stopped and turned to face him. “Your dad was a good king,” Soren said earnestly. “As Crown Guard, it was my job to make sure that nothing happened to him. No matter what,” he kneeled down. “So when the Moonshadow elves came, I did everything I could to protect him… but it wasn’t enough. I just don’t want to fail you too… and fail him again.”

Soren knew he already made too many mistakes and failed so many people. The image of him picking up a fight with a dragon and leaving the town torched came to his mind. He nearly bit the dust after that and how would people remember him… a Crown Guard who failed to do his duty and put others in danger? In fact, the only reason he was down here in the secret passageway speaking to Ezran and not six feet under or torn into pieces, was because Francis, despite everything, stood up to the dragon, saving his life. He gave him a second chance… and Soren would make sure to make the most of it.

“Thanks, Soren,” Ezran told him.

Feeling much lighter and better about himself, Soren continued to lead the way, holding the crutch in his hand, not needing to lean on it anymore. They came to a dead end.

“Okay, now what?” Soren’s thoughts escaped his mind.

“Up,” Ezran said simply and pointed to a hole high above them. It looked like they were at the bottom of a well… and it looked like an excruciatingly long climb. He thanked himself for chomping down on the willow bark.

“Alright, let’s go up,” Soren said without much enthusiasm, his ribs were still going to remind themselves of their soreness.

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright?” Ezran asked as he took Soren’s crutch. “We really should have thought this through.”

“Totally,” Soren dismissed his concern. “I can walk without the crutch, it’s there just in case.” To be fair, Soren’s statement wasn’t entirely wrong, especially when there was pain relief.

Thankfully Ezran was light, so getting him to sit on his shoulders was not a problem. With Bait crowning Ezran’s head, Soren grabbed the protruding bricks and began to pull himself upward. His ribs protested. Just as expected, the willow wouldn’t completely numb the soreness away. He ignored the ever growing pain and continued to climb. He had to do this, even if he wouldn’t be able to get up after he reached the top. His bottom half began to leaden as he got over the half way mark. His torso really just wanted to curve in on itself, trying to shield his screaming ribs.

“Are you sure you don’t need to take a break?” Ezran asked after noticing quiet groans that betrayed Soren.

“It will only get worse if I don’t do this quick enough,” Soren muttered through gritted teeth and after taking a deep breath, he ploughed on and continued his ascend. His entire body was doused in sweat and now he needed to put even greater effort to make sure his hands didn’t slip.

He felt the evening air sober his face. He was almost there, he just needed to put the last few efforts in. “Maybe I should have taken my armour off,” Soren grumbled to himself. “Would’ve made me lighter and the climb easier.” He began to doubt if he would even be able to climb over the edge. He might just settle for letting Ezran and Bait get off him with his last speck of energy.

“Any guards?” Ezran asked. Soren was too strained to even reply. Besides, how would he know, since he was lower than Ezran. “Bait says that the coast is clear.”

“If he says so,” Soren barely managed to reply through the agony, his head not questioning the fact that Ezran just took the word from an animal.

He felt them hop off and it didn’t make things lighter for Soren. He wasn’t sure if he had it left in him anymore, as his fingers began to ache and his nails began to bleed harder from biting into the well’s walls.

“Come on, Soren, don’t you dare give up now!” Ezran pulled Soren by his sleeve, giving him just enough of a boost to get over the edge. Soren collapsed on the floor swallowing heaps of air to try and dull his pain just a little bit. “Are you fine? Can you get up?” Ezran was all over him.

“I’m fine just need a little break,” Soren grunted. “We’re going to have to walk across that bridge without anyone seeing you. While I’m recovering you should get into your disguise.” He pointed to the wheel cart full of hay that he left prior to breaking Ezran out, after sending the letter.

Ezran dug his hand into it and removed the bag that Soren left in there. He looked in the bag and then back at Soren. There was a puzzled expression on the young boy’s face. “There are no clothes in here,” he pointed out.

“Yeah,” Soren sat up, chewing on more pieces of willow bark. Clothes wouldn’t have done anything, even if he wore a cloak. His small size would bring suspicion on them, considering Soren nor anyone in his family had any children. “You’ll climb in and be disguised as stuff in the sack,” he clicked with his tongue at the suggestion… the kid was small enough.

“How about I hide in the hay and you just pull the cart?” Ezran suggested.

Soren nodded approvingly; that… could also work.

* * *

With the sun slowly setting in the distance, Alan stood on the bridge, conversing with another commander that was within his and General Amaya’s network of trust. Those within the network acted almost as agents who were her eyes and ears on everything that went on in the castle, while she defended The Breach. Only those who were in the network knew about it and they made sure that everything was kept in order around Katolis castle.

The individuals were devoted, reliable and capable soldiers, who ensured the safety of the royal family and the kingdom as a whole. The most recent recruit, Marcos, was certainly worthy of being one, despite Alan’s surprise at the General Amaya’s quick judgement. He really cared about the wellbeing of the family and it certainly hurt him deeply to hear the news of Ezran’s abdication and subsequent imprisonment.

In fact, Ezran’s abdication and almost immediate ascension of High Mage Viren, who was previously imprisoned for treason, brought a bad taste in Alan’s mouth. He sensed foul play. Everything happened way too quickly; it was almost too convenient. He remembered the distrust General Amaya cast over Viren’s intentions and how Commander Gren disappeared when he was supposed to go on a rescue party. In the end, it didn’t paint a nice picture and this added even more suspicion.

He was quietly sharing his ideas with another commander, when something… or rather someone, grabbed his attention.

“Horses need hay!” Alan heard someone proclaim a little too pointedly from the castle’s end of the bridge. “I am bringing hay to the horses!” Alan certainly wasn’t the only one who was turning heads at the person who was speaking those words. Alan narrowed his eyes at a limping figure of the person who pulled the cart, who continued. “Very hungry horses need hay.”

Alan had to blink twice to convince himself in what he was seeing. An extremely remarkable sight of Soren trudging the cart behind him, who was supposed to be still very hurt after surviving an attack from a dragon. He had his back buckled down very low, as he put every ounce of his body and energy into pulling this cart without looking fazed. He wasn’t doing a very good job of it, there was no way his ribs would allow him to pull that cart. He definitely had to have consumed some willow bark.

Soren continued pulling the cart. “Hungry, hungry horses.”

“Okay, okay! I’m… I’m sorry. Please stop yelling at me.” One of the townsfolk told him.

“Oh no, I’m not mad,” Soren continued nonchalantly. “See ya.”

Alan looked perplexed at Soren, as he got closer to him. He wasn’t humble enough to do the job of feeding the horses. Soren was also looking straight ahead into one spot, not glancing in his direction, as he walked past. What completely tipped Alan off was the fact that the hay was clearly glowing.

“Soren, wait up,” he shouted and Soren froze to the spot, not letting the cart drop. “Aren’t you a little injured to be doing this job? How about I help you?”

“No, no, no,” Soren replied very quickly. “I need this… for my recovering bones and muscles. Can’t be out of commission for too long.” He laughed nervously. There was already sweat on his face, so it was hard for Alan to fully discern if he was nervous or just sweating from a strenuous activity.

“Well, the hay is… glowing,” Alan pointed out and the glowing clearly had an epicentre.

“Yeah,” Soren looked uncertainly behind his back, as if doublechecking. “Yeah, so what?”

“Nothing, it’s pretty neat.” The other commander played along.

“Thanks man, hay’s the best,” Soren replied and continued pulling the cart away from them, whistling loudly.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” The commander asked Alan.

“Very possible, there is only one creature I know of, that glows and is therefore terrible at hide and seek.” Alan replied to her. “Check the cells quickly before Marcos or anyone else tries to break Ezran out. If we are right about this, put a dummy and report Ezran as present in his cell. I’ll tell Marcos about Ezran.”

* * *

Soren fell on his knees when he finally managed to trudge the cart to the agreed spot just before the last brushes of twilight.

“Come out, everyone!” He said through heavy panting as he got back up on his feet. Ezran and Bait poked their heads out of the hay and they were immediately greeted by the faces of Lady Opeli, Corvus and surprisingly the baker, Barius, who was holding Ezran’s backpack.

“Wow!” Ezran declared. “I can’t believe you all worked together to save me! Thank you.”

“Credit where credit is due, Soren was the mastermind.” Corvus said.

“‘Mastermind’… I like it, that can be my new nickname.” Soren expressed. “It even rhymes. Sor-ine the mastermind.”

“That does not rhyme,” Corvus shook his head disapprovingly. Soren was still unfortunately incorrigible when it came to his ego.

He ignored Corvus’s remark and approached Ezran. “I have to go back to dad’s evening speech, or otherwise he’ll know that something’s up,” he told Ezran, taking a knee to be eye level with him. “These guys will take you to the rendezvous point just a little further up.”

“Thanks again, Soren,” Ezran said. “You’re the best Crown Guard a king could ask for.” Before Soren’s face could melt in glee, Ezran hugged him.

This was what Soren would have already missed out on if he carried out his father’s request. He gave Bait a goodbye scratch and got up, forgetting his ribs were constantly reminding themselves to him. “Argh, I have to carry this back as well,” he grumbled before taking the cart and vanishing behind the trees.

“Rendezvous point?” Ezran wanted the group to elaborate on what Soren meant.

“We’re getting help,” Corvus explained. “You’re going back to Xadi…” Corvus caught himself just in time and promptly corrected. “… Eastern Xadia, and finding your brother.”

“Thankfully I know where him, Francis, Zym and Rayla are going.” Ezran said cheerfully.

“The person who is supposed to help us will apparently meet us up here,” Lady Opeli filled in on the rest of the plan, as she led the way. Ezran wondered who that person might have been. Who did Soren know who could get him to Eastern Xadia?

“I put all of the necessary supplies for the road in your backpack,” Barius informed. “Apples, bread, water and… your favourite jelly tarts, of course.”

“Let’s hope it won’t take too long for your ride to get here,” Corvus said and Ezran heard cawing right on cue.

They all looked up at the starry night sky and the waning moon. A flashing light right where the moon was, announced the presence of a familiar creature with nocturnal black and blue feathers and azure eyes.

“Phoe-Phoe!” Ezran greeted the graciously landing bird… and then the person who dismounted the Moon Phoenix. “… and Lujanne!”

“I wasn’t expecting to receive a message from Katolis,” she said as she dismounted. “It is not signed and considering the opening,” she visibly cringed at the thought. “I assume it is from the strapping young idiot?”

“Soren, yes,” Ezran confirmed.

“I am happy to help anyway,” she concluded.

Well, Ezran needed to get to his team as quickly as possible, so there wasn’t a better time than the present to start making his way.

“Goodbye, Opeli,” Ezran began. “Thank you for believing in me.”

“I serve the true king.” She said putting her hand on her heart and bowing.

“Corvus, I’m sorry I let you down as king,” Ezran moved on. “It only took me a few days to mess everything up.”

“Are you kidding? In your first few days as king, you have shown greater strength, grace and courage than most leaders show in a lifetime.” Corvus encouraged.

Barius didn’t say anything, letting his banther hug do the talking. “Oh, I’ll miss you two stealing my jelly tarts in the bakery.” He somehow managed to grab Ezran and Bait even tighter. Bait was right, maybe Ezran should have executed Barius, because this was slowly choking them. “Goodbye, Ezran. Goodbye, Bait.” He finally let them go and the both of them fell to the ground trying to catch their breaths.

“Time to go, Ezran. Phoe-Phoe will be strongest travelling at night.” Lujanne concluded the farewells, as she helped him mount the Moon Phoenix. She gave Ezran a farewell wink and Phoe-Phoe took off, with a promise that she would see the journey through.

“How is she going to make her way back without you?” Ezran asked, once they took off, shouting through the rushing winds.

 _She is an illusionist,_ Phoe-Phoe cawed.

Ezran guessed that she would get to have her fun messing with some humans. It may have been the fifth day since leaving his friends just on the borders of Eastern Xadia, but he would finally get his wish of seeing it. Despite at one point thinking that the weight of the crown would never let him, at least he would get to be a kid, a younger brother, for just a little bit longer.

* * *

Aaravos watched Viren make his way to the balcony, with the army of Katolis below it, waiting for him to make his speech. His daughter and Prince Kasef on one side, while Councilman Saleer stood on his own on the other side. The stars did not plan for Soren to be missing, but Aaravos doubted there was much problem that could be caused from that. He focused on what Viren was going to say to his soldiers.

“I am humbled to stand before you,” King Viren began. “You are the greatest fighting force in the history of humankind!” The soldiers cheered at the slightly unfounded compliment – Aaravos saw other greater armies in his lifetime and he sensed that there would be another that would come in the near future. He did credit Viren for his manipulative tongue, it showed more than once that he did know how to speak to an audience and also to an individual. The stars were shining in their favour.

“Xadia hates us,” King Viren continued. “They hate humanity and they would destroy us if we let them… but we will fight back!” Viren opened his hands to the Katolis army who all cheered his words. “But before we embark on our journey across the world, a journey that will change history… there is one unpleasant matter.” The soldiers grunted unhappily at the prospect of the problem. “You see, Ezran, in his last act as king, insisted that all those who no longer wish to fight be allowed to lay down their arms.” The soldiers gasped at the news. Laying down arms was usually a sign of capitulation or cowardice. A king had never offered it as an option to depart from the army and Viren pressured that point. “Well, go on, leave us, cowards! We don’t want you anyway!” Aaravos counted the stars that marked the time with a maleficent grin and listened to the expected silence that went on for a long time. He waited for Viren to continue and finish his speech. The silence was only going to last ten more seconds.

_One… two… three… four… five… six… seven… eight… nine… ten… and conti…_

Suddenly someone dared to correct him.

“Eastern Xadia,” a voice from below cut through the still air like thunder, as all heads turned to the soldier who said it. It was a commander of one of the companies. The soldier stepped fearlessly forward, as he unsheathed his sword and thrust it into the ground. The soldier removed his helmet and placed it on the hilt revealing the brave man… it was Marcos. “King Ezran is the true king and I serve only him,” Marcos’s voice rung through the air sonorously. “You attacked Prince Callum on the night of King Harrow’s murder, whom you failed to protect and then you betrayed your subordinates and killed them before you were arrested for treason. You are a tyrant! And if I’m the only one who is willing to stand up to you and do the right thing, then so be it. Francis did it anyway, so did King Ezran during his reign and so will I!”

His speech was initially met with deafly jeering, until suddenly Aaravos could hear the clanking of the armour and swords. More and more soldiers began to join him… this was never supposed to happen, but thankfully only less than the fifth of the army defied Viren. It wasn’t ideal but it wasn’t too detrimental.

Marcos stood side by side with Commander Gren, Alan, most of The Breach’s battalion and most of the fellow company soldiers, as those who remained with Viren clamoured and jeered at them.

“No, no, no, let them be!” King Viren regained the control of his army. “Let them return safely to their families, but even their families will know that they are deserters.” King Viren said as he produced a badge out of his pocket depicting a single chain link cut in half . “They will wear this on their clothing. A badge of shame and cowardice, a broken link!” The soldiers still jeered as the ‘deserters’, all with straight backs, left through the gate to the town. “A chain is only as strong as its weakest link. It is better to be rid of our weak links today!” The soldiers supported King Viren’s words, as he opened his arms to revel in their buzz.

Tonight they would set off to Xadia. Aaravos smiled, despite the hiccup, it was still unfolding perfectly… only five days to get to the Storm Spire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random thought: Bait would probably be the best defensive spy. Nobody would suspect Ezran of being able to communicate and understand animals, so he could be getting any sort of information on anyone. Anyways, when I was writing this chapter I thought of communicating with Bait parts on the spot and I wonder if any future TDP books will include it in written form... or maybe we would get a mini on-screen version of it. In any case, it would be interesting to see how they envisioned it.  
> Thank you very much again, for reading this far. Next chapter: back to Rayllum and Francis seeing orange eyes and having awful 'headaches'.


	21. The Midnight Desert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Midnight Desert... a dangerous place, where everything was trying to kill you 24/7. It was a bitter obstacle to go around, due to Queen Zubeia dying... yet a risky opportunity presented itself, that was too good to turn down. Would Team Zym's gamble pay off?

When someone wanted to disappear from the existence and wanted to be forgotten, people chose to remove everything that made them: the records, the actions, everything they did. In other words, they wiped the slate completely clean and left absolutely no trace, not even a hint that they were even there. The common mistake was that in doing so, they left a huge hole behind them which perfectly reconstructed their very presence.

Rayla was devastated by last night’s events. She might have put on a face when she did things throughout the fifth day in Eastern Xadia, but it was still obvious that the events shook her. What gave her away was that she was very removed from everything around her. The glassy eyes, the spiritless movements, the painfully absent smile on her face, the deafening silence she was screaming, the hung head... it was like only less than a half of her being was present. It was almost like she was indifferent... or rather unfeeling, empty.

It was so obvious that you didn’t need to be in the same universe to see Rayla’s grief and pain etched in her face. Callum obviously noticed that his crush was not in a great mood and he really, really looked concerned by it. He wanted to help but he didn’t know how. He mostly tried to indirectly address her issues, by doing things that he knew or could possibly cheer her up: adoraburrs, funny sketches in his book, asking things about Eastern Xadia’s fauna… but nothing worked. In fact, Callum looked really saddened by the fact that the excitement over showing or explaining things about Eastern Xadia to him was erased from her face.

Her sharpness and alertness were also gone when Francis and Rayla sparred, late in the evening. She made very amateur mistakes and her whole movement was lackadaisical, something that never happened during the time Francis knew her. Her normally obsidian concentration was shattered throughout the training… last night was too predominant in her head.

Francis hoped that this would maybe help distract from her grief… but it just wasn’t working out. Just as she wasn’t very much in the zone of fighting, she was also very lenient with herself when she made her errors. She wasn’t growling, she wasn’t beating herself up over her mistakes and sloppiness, she completely ignored her environment… she just did and took everything silently.

Yet, despite everything Francis couldn’t keep focusing solely on Rayla. During one of the breaks, the pause itself made him finally acknowledge the drilling pain in his right side. Ethari was a life saver, not just because the mounts would get them to their destination quicker, but Francis wasn’t sure if he would be able to keep hiding the limping issue at his right hip anymore. The mounts helped it recover a little, but it would never be enough to heal it.

With his aloe paste gone, his only chance of soothing his pain were the Sun’s Tears, a thorny plant that may have looked bland and unfriendly, but its petals were used to making a healing salve. Francis considered asking to stop and search for them at the edge of The Midnight Desert, but with the Dragon Queen dying he instead opted to not waste time and settled on briskly looking for them if they were on their path there. Besides, since they were going to travel around the edge of the desert the chances of stumbling across one was more than likely. Of course, Francis also didn’t want his friends to be weighed down with concerns about him, since it really paled in comparison to the bigger tragedy and the bigger problems at hand. As long as the pain didn’t impede him, there was no real need of them to know about it.

Rayla suddenly sighed, hanging her head… finally, a reaction! Without a signal or stating her intentions, she put her blades away and sat down on a fallen tree, her hands clasped together and resting on her knees. Callum would normally observe from there, but he was left to keep the campfire going as he probably distracted himself by doodling something… probably the thing on his mind – Rayla.

Her eyes remained closed for a very long time. Francis slowly stepped towards her until he stood straight in front of her. She was clearly done with practicing and despite the stoic expression, she was unhappy with herself. Francis wondered if there was an ever growing list of frustrations at herself that she kept adding to. She finally opened her eyes, looking like she was clearly trying to keep hold of herself, her back and shoulders closing in on themselves.

“You travelled Eastern Xadia for four years, away from home learning all these different cultures and ideas,” she finally spoke, though her head remained hung and her eyes looked anywhere but his feet. “Where do you feel you belong?”

“Right here, right now is where I belong, doing the right thing.” Francis replied immediately.

“Who do you associate yourself with?” Rayla asked more directly.

“You, my family,” Francis replied and although he meant it as two separate answers, something told him that maybe it was becoming more and more interchangeable for him.

“No,” she said, irritated. “I mean what culture specifically?”

“Oh I see,” Francis understood. She was clearly trying to drive at a specific topic, but meandered as much as possible, so that she wouldn’t say the word ‘home’ out loud. “I don’t feel like I’m one specific type or thing,” he played subtly along for now. “I’m nothing extremely special. I’m just… me, myself.”

“How? You’ve travelled around the world, experienced so many things and yet there is no place you feel close enough to call…” she shuddered as she finally forced herself to say it. “… home?”

“To tell you the truth, I feel like an outcast, an outsider to both elf and human cultures,” Francis replied cautiously. “Sure I can fit in just about anywhere, but I don’t truly feel like I’m a part of anything. There are too many things, ideas and cultures mixed inside me, that makes me simultaneously a part of all and none of them. I can’t really call myself by any one culture, because not only it is discarding huge parts of me, but I am also not enough to truly be that specific culture. I have the no-nonsense and earnest approach of the Del Bar people, but I also possess the more fun-loving and easy-going side of the Katolis people. My appreciation for the nature comes from the Earthblood elves and my view on life and death is akin to Moonshadow elves, albeit slightly modified. The list goes on and although I’m none of the cultures that I mentioned, I believe the synergy of all these cultures within me makes me unique. It makes me who I am.”

“How can you be so free, so fine without having a home?” Rayla finally looked up at him.

“I chose to pay attention to other things in life and I feel fine, as long as I feel like and can be myself. I live off of the energy of other people sometimes and as long as I have you, Callum and Ezran around me, I feel right where I belong, right where I should be.” Francis told her with the biggest most genuine brightness in his eyes, before continuing with a rueful smirk. “But I’m not really that free, Rayla. I’m a prisoner of my own expectations and standards, where my mind is the warden and others are the prison guards.”

“And how are you okay with that?”

“Because that’s normal, you yourself need to be the biggest critic.” Francis replied calmly. “You should always be able to rely on yourself, lest your fate lies in someone else’s hands. However life is unpredictable and sometimes you don’t get the chance to make that decision, which is why it is important to choose the right people that stand by your side.” He lifted his fist and put it across his chest and on his heart. “Listen, Rayla, I promise to you that you will be able to return home.”

“What?” Rayla suddenly lifted her back and crossed her arms. “I don’t care. Why are you humans so nosy?”

“You’re the one asking questions about home and belonging.” Francis pointed out calmly.

“Ugh, I was just asking, you’re overthinking it again. Besides, you are not in the position to make such a promise.”

“It is, when it comes to my friends,” Francis replied firmly but not unkindly.

“There is nothing you can do about it and… can we just focus on getting this done?”

“We will and then I’ll do something about Silvergrove, because there is a way.” Francis replied confidently.

“Can you leave me alone now?” Rayla asked and Francis, although a little hurt by her request, respected it.

He left her without saying another word, as he approached campfire. It gave off orange flames and Francis did his best to ignore when a pair of those flames observed from the trees throughout the night.

* * *

Callum did not rest easy that night. He pretended to go asleep by the campfire, but he didn’t have to… he couldn’t fall asleep at all. His mind was overloading on how he could try and help Rayla, how to make things better. What made things very difficult was that Rayla didn’t let him help her, she refused to open up. Instead she opted to act as if nothing was wrong, that it didn’t bother her in the slightest… and that couldn’t have been further from the truth. Through her stone stoic expression things were just too stark from her usual self. She may have been stoic before but now she was less lively, less expressive.

The injustice and the impact it had on Rayla really bothered Callum and he spent a whole day trying to make things easier for her, but he just couldn’t seem to find the key. Maybe two minds were better than one? Callum considered if Francis too was struggling to sleep as he thought about possible actions in regards to Rayla’s situation. He did mention that sometimes he would prevent himself from falling asleep, when he thought too much. Surely Francis tried to do something about it? He had an unnatural sense for reading the room, especially when it came to his friend’s moods, as Callum recalled Francis frequently use the word ‘aura’ in his explanations and guesses.

Callum turned over to the other side where Francis was resting. In the night, Callum normally. wouldn’t have been able to see Francis, considering that he was wearing black clothing… at least if it wasn’t for the very clear almost illuminating orange lines down the side of his shirt. Callum, still lying on the ground and not wanting to be caught awake, waved at the dying embers of the campfire and threw a few more pieces of wood into it to let it burn for just a little longer.

The fire’s brightness was enough to light up Francis’s figure. Judging by the long, deep and slow breathing and the shut eyes, Francis was actually asleep… but Callum never saw anyone sleep like that before. Francis’s body was all tensed up, his face tauten, his eyelids cramped close. He was sitting up against the tree, with the head caved slightly into his shoulders, his arms and legs crossed, making his body looked like it wrapped in on itself. Callum never saw Francis so restless before, in fact he didn’t even know people could look this restless in their sleep. Perhaps sleeping pulled the curtain away from what Francis truly felt and chose to conceal throughout the day.

Callum heard footsteps approach their camp… Rayla finally came back after all this time alone. Her back was constantly to Callum, so he couldn’t see her face, how she was truly feeling right now. She picked a spot to sleep in and squatted down to take a final drink for the day… she chose Moonberry juice. Callum watched her suddenly freeze up. He wasn’t taking any chance, she definitely was going to turn around to check if everyone was asleep. He quickly shut his eyes and used his ears to listen out to when she laid down. He listened carefully to the sound of her slow breaths that signalled her entering the land of the dreaming and once he heard it, he quickly managed to fall asleep himself.

* * *

After only a day of travelling from The Breach, Amaya was brought to Lux Aurea, the shining city brimming with golden surfaces and materials, so much so that it irritated her eyes. Wherever she got to look, the Sunfire elves’ pride was shown on full display: the nauseating gold imperial banners, pestiferous gold roads, repulsive gold fountains with its retching golden water, repugnant gold buildings, obnoxiously gold clothing and tattoos on every citizens’ faces and bodies that gathered around to ogle at Amaya, a human. Everything had a golden touch to it… talk about pretentious here.

Now however Amaya had to reside in what she considered to be a prison cell for the past four days, as sweat rained all over her body. Unlike the human holding cells, she was kept in captivity within the ring of tall and roaring fire and dehydration was trying to whittle her down. Her solitary time was interrupted on the sixth day of capture when the commander from The Breach, the same elf she fought twice already, came through the curtain of flames, her skin turning into molten red, protecting her from being burned. Way to show off. We got it, Sunfire elves liked fire, it was in the name! This time however they wouldn’t get to compete in sword fighting.

“Well, human, are you enjoying your stay?” The Sunfire commander told her without a sign of hospitality.

Another elf came behind her, although unlike the commander she used something to make the flames go apart so that she could enter the cell. When the fires closed back in again, she yelped and jumped away from it. Clearly her back was singed a little, as her garments gave off a smoke, that was quickly dealt with.

She definitely wasn’t a soldier. She awkwardly and nervously stood behind the commander, caught in a predicament, where she wanted to be far away, almost hiding from the two of them but was forced to hug the wall made out of fire. Her eyes tried her best to not look at anyone unless it was absolutely necessary. So not every Sunfire elf was a pretentious and arrogant individual, who acted like anyone who didn’t belong to their kind was beneath them. At least that unconfident elf didn’t have her spectacles made out of golden material.

“I’m going to uncuff you now, so you can speak.” Amaya read the commander’s lips.

 _How nice of you_.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” The commander warned, a warning Amaya thought pointless considering she was encircled by fire; there wasn’t much she could do that could help her.

Amaya assumed the other elf must have been an interpreter. She didn’t particularly care, she wasn’t going to tell them anything useful. Besides she doubted that with only four fingers the interpreter would be able to tell her everything… and that’s not taking the Katolis dialect into account.

“What were your human soldiers doing on the Xadian side of the border?” The commander interrogated. To the interpreter’s credit, she was doing a great job of translating everything coherently. Amaya didn’t sign back. “What are the humans planning?” The commander continued to interrogate… what a pointless question. It didn’t matter anymore, considering the only path into Xadia was destroyed. She again didn’t deign her with a response, as she looked unceremoniously to the side. The commander elf sighed. “I’m losing my patience.”

_Considering your temperament, I’m not surprised you lack patience._

“Say something!” Amaya felt the elf’s voice blow in her face.

She wanted her to say something? Well, that could be arranged… and so she signed, challenging the interpreter. The commander didn’t tell Amaya what to say specifically.

“Um… oh my,” the interpreter looked jarred. She must have understood what Amaya just signed.

“Well, Kazi, what did she say?” The commander elf turned expectantly around.

“If my interpretation is correct and it is,” Kazi said her head ducking into her shoulders slightly. “She suggested an unusual way in which your body can accommodate your sword.”

Amaya snickered at her interpretation, it might have been a watered down version of it, but the message was the same. She felt the commander grab her by the chin, forcing her to look into her eyes.

“I suppose you think that’s funny,” she told her apprehensively.

 _Especially with the way your interpreter translated the hand signs, yes. You didn’t specify what to say_. Amaya nodded with a cocky grin.

“That’s a common sign for ‘yes’,” Kazi explained rather needlessly.

“We’ll see if you have the same attitude with our queen.”

The commander grabbed Amaya by the shoulders and pushed her from out of her cell. Amaya wasn’t particularly enthralled to get to know how a queen of this prideful and mostly arrogant kind would behave… so she braced herself.

* * *

Surrounded by the luscious green leaves and bright blossoming flowers, a heavy silence was passing by. The magic of Eastern Xadia came to an abrupt end for Callum as he onlooked at a deflated Rayla in her muted green clothes, feeling worse and worse about seeing her like this. If yesterday her silence was simply obvious, then today it was overbearing. It couldn’t keep on going like this, she couldn’t keep going like this, he wasn’t sure if he felt fine about keeping going in this manner either.

Callum heard Francis suddenly begin to hum a little tune out loud, he never heard before… perhaps he too felt the tension in the air and wanted to keep himself focused on leading the road.

“Could you stop, please?” Rayla blurted out.

Francis fell silent without a word. Callum winced at Rayla’s bluntness… it wasn’t even directed at him. His mount suddenly decided to complicate things by jumping around from side to side and doing pretty much what it wanted. Callum yelped and wiggled around from side to side, finding it difficult to stop himself from sliding down the side… at least his leg caught something, so he didn’t fall off.

“It’s fine. I’m fine. This is fine,” Callum yelped as Francis looked back, concerned. Rayla didn’t even react.

“Rayla, please,” Francis begged. “You know how Moonstriders are notorious for their pride and stubbornness.” Callum had a feeling that Francis would have probably joked about Rayla being similar to the creature’s nature but given the circumstance it was rather uncalled for and would have probably fallen flat.

“I already told you, since yesterday, that I’m not swapping places with Callum.” Rayla replied.

“Rayla, please be reasonable,” Francis tried again.

“I am, Callum is an inexperienced rider, so there’s not much I can do about that one,” Rayla remained stubborn. “Besides I rode this Shadowpaw throughout my childhood, so it’s another good reason for me to stick with him.”

“Rayla,” Francis was about to try again, but Callum interrupted him.

“Francis, it’s okay. I can handle this.”

“You perfectly know that’s a lie,” Francis told him. “And it’s not okay for you to keep suffering when there’s a perfectly easy solution to the problem.” When Rayla replied with silence, Francis shook his head and dropped the issue for the time being.

The leaden silence dropped again on their journey, only to be sometimes interrupted by Callum yelping as his Moonstrider kept doing what it wanted. Callum wondered how Francis was able to keep his Moonstrider relatively calm.

When Callum’s mount finally relaxed, his mind immediately surged back to Rayla, as her head remained slightly lowered and looking to the side. “Past few days must have been hard for you,” he decided to be a little more direct this time.

“Not really,” she curtly deflected.

“Back when I was a kid, my family used to do this thing called ‘big feelings time’,” Callum went on to explain. “You close your eyes and ask yourself if you have any big feelings, then you say them out loud and the other person says they hear your feelings and it makes you feel good.”

“Humans are so weird,” Rayla sighed, looking away.

“They are,” Francis said upbeat, perhaps trying to lighten the atmosphere. “And elves too… look no further than us.”

“I’m just saying, you’ve been through a lot lately,” Callum said. “It would be understandable if you had some…”

“Leave me alone!” Rayla exclaimed and went a little ahead.

“… big, big feelings.” Callum finished.

“If you don’t stop pestering me about this right now, I’m going to give you a big feeling on the side of your head.” Rayla threatened.

“If you lash out on him, I’ll make sure you’ll regret it.” Francis commanded, as he stopped his steed.

“He’s…” Rayla began but Francis cut her off.

“Silence, I’m talking! I’m not interested in your excuse!” Francis’s voice was unusually colder. “If you need to vent it out, then do it on me during sparring, because last time you were poor. We’re still on the mission and I expect you to remain focused, understood?” Francis waited. “I can’t hear you. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Rayla sighed.

“Good, now go ahead and cool it off.” Francis said and she overtook him and put some distance between her and them. Francis moved on in line with Callum’s Moonstrider.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Callum said. “You know what she’s going through, even if she’s not admitting to it.”

“Doesn’t excuse her from acting like she wants,” Francis replied firmly, but not unkindly. “She needs to address it, but I’m not letting her off the hook if she isn’t cutting it.”

“You need to give her time and you can’t be this demanding of her.” Callum argued.

“We are giving her time and I will be this demanding and keep her in check because you are the one who’s supporting right now.” Francis pointed out. “Life after all is a balancing act.”

“Are you sure that this is the right way to go about it?”

“Only as long as you keep trying to break through, yes.” Francis nodded. “I promise I won’t push her too far and force her do anything she doesn’t want to.” Callum regarded Francis for a moment before, Francis pushed him along. “Come on, let’s not fall behind.”

* * *

Francis estimated that a few more hours of travelling and they would make it to the edge of The Midnight Desert, parching lands at day and treacherous territory at night. The black sand soaked up the sun, making it the hottest known desert and during the night, soulfang serpents roamed around and were keen to suck the spirit out until you were a barely living husk… a gruesome death. When one mentioned such epithets as hot, horrible, haunted and horrifying, it was not an exaggeration… quite the opposite, it was probably putting things lightly. Travelling across it without mounts was almost akin to suicide and even with the mounts, it was a big ask… unless the mount was dauntingly huge… like a…

“Someone’s here,” Rayla said suddenly and Francis, despite her shook state, didn’t doubt her elf hearing.

They both dismounted and while Rayla unsheathed both of her swords, Francis’s sword remained waiting. He narrowed his eyes and focused on his hearing. Callum quickly put on his ridiculous disguise and sat still on his twitchy Moonstrider. Francis looked around. Nothing around him tipped him off about an ambush waiting to happen. There weren’t any traces of an intervention with the nature… not on ground anyways.

Francis felt something light brush through his forelock, making his hand shoot up to fix it immediately. The thing glided across his hand’s skin and fell on the ground… it was a leaf. He saw a few more leaves landing on the ground around him… there wasn’t any wind blowing around them at any point. Francis quickly looked up as something winged was flying down to them through an opening in the tree’s canopy.

“Heads!” Francis signalled as he backed closer to a whimpering Zym and Callum.

The maroon winged creature headed straight to the ground and landed in front of them, keeping her distance to them… well, that was an entrance.

“Good morning,” Francis was still as sharp as ever in his usual tact, as he was able to relax a little, since the person he greeted was an unarmed Skywing elf. She was one of the rare types that was born with wings that attached to the lower end of her back. She had azure blue hair with some of the strands ending in teal or white. Within her hair were two sets of black horns with white ends that arched backwards and away from the ground. She was wearing black clothes with very rare blue patterns, that were accommodating to travelling in warmer ecosystems. Due to the traveller’s dust that covered her outfit she was no stranger to commuting and sleeping outside. Her right eye was dark yellow, almost golden, and the other was light blue. Her skin was pale blue, almost greyish. Francis regarded her body for a moment. She wasn’t malnourished, but it looked like for at least a couple of days food was not in a abundance for her.

“Greetings travellers,” the elf spoke with a clean and, quite uncommon amongst female elves, slightly lower pitched voice. “My name is Naimi-Selari-Nykantia… but they call me ‘Nyx’.”

“Hi, Nyx. My name is Rayla. They call me ‘Rayla’ and I’m in a bad mood.” She twirled her blades in her hands. “Either you fly away now or I’m going to use these blades to do something that is going to cheer me up.”

“Ah, I should’ve guessed,” Nyx continued calmly, though slightly unnerved. “You’re the banished Moonshadow elf.” She used her finger to lower the pointed blade. That was extremely bold of her… but how did she know?

“What? What are you talking about?” Rayla asked apprehensively and raised her blade back. up.

“I am an emissary of the Dragon Queen,” Nyx replied simply. “She received your message and she sent me to help you.” She bowed, before continuing. “I’m at your service.” She turned to Callum. “And you must be…”

“I’m an Earthblood elf. Oi!” Callum said in his terrible accent. If life was ever judged in impressions you made of the other race, then Rayla and Callum were made for each other, considering how terrible their impressions were and how unironically proud they were of their own and rightfully scoffed the other’s.

“Huh, the message said there were going to be two human companions and only one elf… not the other way around,” Nyx took out the said message to double check her words.

“Oh does it now?” Callum continued with his thick accent.

“I’m pretty sure that it’s obvious that Callum is a human pretending to be an Earthblood elf,” Francis interjected unceremoniously. “The message is right, don’t worry.”

“Yep, I was a human all along.” Callum removed his disguise and Nyx was just left staring weirdly at him… but then her gaze switched to Francis… and her eyes went astronomically wide.

“It’s You!” She pointed… how rude of her. “The Green Caped Traveller!”

“Oh, no,” Francis muttered with an obvious hint of exasperation. He thought he escaped the pronoun nicknames when he left Western Xadia, but that ended up being wishful thinking. Why was it that he never could do things quietly? There was always something loud that would eventually happen that he would be known of or dubbed by.

“I thought you were just an urban rumour floating around. I doubted a human could even make it further than the Storm Spire, let alone come as far as the Far Reaches… and you’ve been through the Drakewood and the Uncharted Forest to visit the Tidebound Archipelago and The Black Tundra!”

“I kind of had to.” Francis replied, deflecting the enormity and the difficulty of the terrain he faced, especially the Uncharted Forest. He was lucky to have found a way out and not die of starvation or other hostile creatures in there. He swore in the end to never visit the place again… unless absolutely necessary. He noticed how Nyx was inspecting him through the eyelashes from head to toe with a languid look in her eyes… he made the effort to hide the apprehensive tension in his body by subtly changing the topic. “Well, Nyx, why has Queen Zubeia sent you?” He put his hands behind his back. Zym finally popped out his curious snout from behind Callum’s back where he resided for most of the day and hid from the attack.

“Ah, there he is, the dragon of the hour!” Nyx exclaimed and Francis narrowed his eyes at her. “Oh and he has his mother’s eyes. I have been authorised by the Dragon Queen to fly him directly home.”

“That’s not happening,” Francis and Rayla both said at the same time, as Francis stood sideways in the way of Nyx and Rayla had her blades in front of her like a gate.

“We’re doing just fine on our own,” Rayla said dismissively, as she was about to mount back on her Shadowpaw.

“I can get the baby dragon home faster and that’s what matters most,” Nyx had a point.

“We’re not letting you take Zym.” Rayla thrusted her sword right up to Nyx’s face.

“Whoa!” Nyx raised her hands.

“Relax a little, Rayla.” Francis warned her.

“Yeah, I got the point!” Nyx nodded as quickly as she could, hoping that would be convincing. “How about this? I can give you all a ride,” she compromised.

“Not interested.” Rayla was furiously adamant. Francis stepped a little closer at that proposition.

“Are you sure?” Nyx had the gall to lean forward closer to the blade as if she challenged her. “How are you planning to cross the Midnight Desert?”

“Do we look stupid?” Rayla spewed, but before she could continue, Francis jumped in.

“We were planning to go around it.”

“That will take a week. With the Dragon Queen dying, that would be a waste.” Nyx replied crossing her arms.

“Well, you supposedly have something that will help us go through the desert,” Francis deduced unenthusiastically.

“Yes, I can take you across the desert in two days.” Nyx insisted.

“Let me guess, you have an Ambler?” Francis asked.

“Oh, you’re clever too, aren’t you?” Nyx spoke with a playful tone, looking at him intriguingly.

“Don’t ever use that voice when addressing me,” Francis warned with a cold steely tone. “And don’t look at me like that if you don’t want me to introduce a third blade to the equation.”

“You make it quite difficult and your threats are having the opposite effect.” Nyx continued shamelessly.

“Do you have an Ambler or not?” Francis asked impatiently, feeling a little flustered, but mostly uneasy.

“I do,” she said confidently. “We need to set out now if we are to make it to the central oasis by sundown. We’ll spend the night there and make it out of the other side the next day. Then it will be just the home stretch for all of you.”

Francis looked inquisitively at Rayla and Callum, an unspoken question of consent hovering over his lips.

“The Dragon Queen is dying,” Callum mused.

“And this will save us five days,” Rayla conceded unwillingly.

“Then it is decided,” Francis announced. Nyx was about to make her satisfaction known, but Francis wasn’t done. “You do something we don’t like and you’ll have to learn how to cast a spell that temporarily gives you wings.” That would certainly unsettle her enough to not do anything stupid, even if Francis had no real intentions of hurting her wings. While Rayla was detached enough not to react, Callum gasped at the threat, finding it a little jarring.

Nyx cleared her throat… or maybe swallowed and unconvincingly turned around. “Follow me.”

* * *

Just as Nyx promised, she led them to her Ambler, a giant and friendly creature with cream coloured body, long drooping ears and clear curious light blue eyes. The Ambler spent a while sniffing Francis and Callum, before them and Rayla finally got to use the beast’s tail to get lifted onto its back. It was definitely its first time meeting humans.

On its back was a large secluded platform that must have been constructed by Nyx for passengers. Another similar platform was at the top of the Ambler’s head, where Nyx flew off to steer the Ambler. It wasn’t as big as the one at the back but it was still big enough to fit two people in and have backpacks. Francis wasn’t sure why Nyx would need so much space to steer the Ambler, considering the platform on its back was really spacious… but it wasn’t the thing for him to be concerned with.

He was finally able to rest his right side, lying up against the sides of the platform, not needing to walk or hold himself on his prideful Moonstrider anymore. He retreated into one of his favourite tasks – reading. Out of his backpack, he produced the diary he accidentally found in his journey in Eastern Xadia. Specifically at the back of a bookshelf in a library on the Tidebound Archipelago. He only wanted to put it a little straighter, fix how it looked… but when he realised it was a diary, he thought someone lost it and he wanted to return it. He read it to find out who the elf was and where he or she lived… but the more he read it, the more he realised that there was more to the diary than met the eye.

It started off normally, but about a tenth of the way through the writing got deliberately smaller and more meticulous as the author made the effort to put as many words on the page as possible, making it hard to read… and the contents and suggestions in the diary made Francis wonder if anything that was written in the book was an actual possibility. It made him fascinated with the idea and the possibilities it could open up.

He did later find out that the person who wrote the diary lived a very, very long time ago and was thus dead. He was a bit of an obscure folklore story within Eastern Xadia though, most popular amongst Tidebound elves. Right now, Francis was about a fifth of the way through and couldn’t quite believe the timing of the passage he was reading. Considering he was in a scorching desert, the fact that the diary and the specific passage mentioned ‘ice’ quite a lot was ironic, to say the least. Nonetheless he felt extremely good about finally getting to read, since it was something he wasn’t able to do for a prolonged period of time. During the day, they travelled, making it hard to both read and pay attention to where they were going and during the night, it was too dark to read.

However even when he was reading, he was able to silently and subconsciously observe the things revolving around him… and he did that combined with what he did best – willingly become invisible, dissolved into the background, hiding within the noise. During his time reading, all Rayla did was stand on the edge of the platform looking remorseful in the direction from where they came – the Silvergrove. She occasionally held the Moon Opal she had around her neck, probably looking equally sad at it. Francis bet she was trying to numb the depressing feeling she got from it… and he certainly wasn’t blaming her for being so unfeeling the last two days. Callum approached her, looking with the same concern in his eyes he gave her for the same past two days.

“What?” Francis heard Rayla ask bluntly, after Callum remained silent for too long.

“Nothing,” he quickly replied back. “I was just wondering what you’re thinking about right now?” Callum must have heard Rayla use the same trick on Francis.

“I’m fine, Callum. Like I already told you,” Rayla’s denial continued. Francis looked up at a slightly dejected Callum, who was about to walk away, until they all experienced a massive jolt. The Ambler grunted and stumbled, sending everyone to the ground. Francis could hear Nyx grumbling up on the Ambler’s head.

“What happened?” Callum asked when he got up.

“Her foot is stuck in a hole,” Nyx explained. “The soulfangs burrow into the ground during the day, making all these tunnels and if too many are in one place, the ground gives way. I just need to get down and get her foot out.” She flew off, but before going down she addressed Callum, simply because he was the closest one. “Don’t touch my stuff!”

“Do we look like thieves to you?” Francis casually defended Callum, not looking up from his book.

“It’s those who look noble and rich who end up being the thieves, just because you suspect them the least.” Nyx left it at that.

Francis went back to reading, as soon as the Ambler set off again. He mulled in his head that comment… it wasn’t just a throwaway line. She clearly had experiences with being out in the wild, perhaps she wasn’t just a simple traveller. In fact, Francis was almost certain that she wasn’t who she said she was… and he couldn’t have been the only one.

Agreeing to travel with Nyx was a huge risk and the fact she was so focused on Zym was concerning… to put it lightly. They were gambling, a thing Francis hated, since it was beyond his control and left too many things up to chance… but did they really have a choice? If they were careful enough, they could come out of it unscathed.

All of this just came at a horrible time where the Team were left licking their wounds after visiting Silvergrove, especially Rayla. Francis noticed many times before, that he could sometimes feel auras, something the author of the diary also claimed to possess, but what was more aberrant was the simple fact that that feeling was strongest when emotions and feelings were heightened or magnified. Francis could acutely feel Rayla’s frustrations and emptiness from the events, something that was to be expected. What Francis couldn’t understand was that he could somehow also feel traces of physical pain. Was Rayla injured? Did she wear herself down with extra training when Francis went to sleep? Rayla didn’t seem to be physically hurt though. If she wasn’t in pain and Francis wasn’t psyching himself out… then who was hurt?

“Hey, You,” Francis was interrupted, as he saw Nyx’s finger protrude from behind the diary he was reading in order to lower it. Francis saw Nyx kneeling in front of him.

“I would prefer if you called me Francis,” he said calmly, despite not appreciating the fact that his thoughts were interrupted.

“Great, now… you look like the leader here,” Nyx said expectantly, leaving Francis a little unsure as to where exactly she was leading him, but one thing was for certain – he didn’t like wherever she was trying to push things, especially if she wanted to flirt. Ugh, just please no. He was already uncomfortable as it was and she seemed to have been really trying… making Francis even more suspicious of her intentions. Instead he needed to shift the focus on her, preferably talking about something that would get her away from him or give him information to work with.

“Perhaps,” Francis replied airily, continuing before she could. “And you look like food has been a stranger to you.”

There was a twitch in her head, as she cocked it slightly. “It’s difficult to find food to eat in the desert,” she was clearly deflecting.

“Where do you come from?” Francis pressed.

“Oh, just a great big and beautiful city of Vunopoli.”

It wasn’t. Sure, it was fairly big as it stretched across the mountains north of The Breach, but it wasn’t a beautiful city. “Last time I heard of it, it was a poverty ridden and war torn city,” Francis remarked nonchalantly. “It’s where all the military personnel and their families get sent and since the last war that happened almost a decade ago, I heard that Vunopoli hadn’t recovered.” He clasped his hands together and held them in front of him.

“How do you even know that? There were no humans in Vunopoli all this time.” She was caught completely off guard.

“I’m no ordinary human,” Francis said simply, staring at her, looking for a reaction, as he continued. “Growing up there, must have been a struggle. Money constantly a problem and food was also in short supply.” He considered if she was a complete rogue who spent her entire childhood running away and stealing just to survive. It wasn’t completely out of the question. “… especially if one’s parents were killed at the borders.”

“Thankfully, that didn’t happen.” She said calmly, yet her mouth twitched slightly.

“You’re fortunate,” Francis pretended to buy it and in order to cement it, he added. “I have some spare supplies,” he said genuinely and Nyx perked up at that. “I would be fine with giving you something to eat.”

“Thank you,” she said with clearly a genuine soft tone in her voice that actually caught Francis off guard. It was the first time she sounded so honest and open… he could sense it.

He stared at her for a moment, before handing her some of the Moonberry juice and some fruits. She gratefully took them and flew to the top platform.

* * *

Amaya was led into the Sunfire Queen’s throne room located high above the Lux Aurea. The room itself was quite open and the Queen’s throne was located in such a way that the sun was perfectly behind her now… and wouldn’t you know it, everything in the room was made out of gold. Amaya was already sick of gold, but this might have been pushing beyond the limits of what was acceptable in her eyes.

The commander forcefully pushed Amaya to make her fall on her knees. “Your radiance,” she said and bowed, crossing two hands in front of her. Kazi did the same. The Queen looked repulsively at the human and then stared disinterested at the commander.

_This elf queen has a stick up her…_

“We captured this human general at our borders,” the commander explained. “She refuses to cooperate with my interrogation.”

The Queen rose from her throne and drew near to Amaya, looking down at her. She got close enough for her to use her sceptre to lift Amaya’s chin, maintaining distance as if Amaya was leprous. The Queen had an assuming demeanour and looked like she was looking at something that was worse than an animal, as there was an air of untouchability in her regarding movements. Amaya forced the sceptre away with her head and spat at her feet. Her challenge was met with a stony expression.

“Dispose of her,” the Queen ordered, before turning around in the same disinterested manner that defined her shallow and cold behaviour. “If she’s not useful – get rid of her. Since The Breach is sealed – she’s worthless.”

 _Oh great, this will be the last thing I get to see – pompously overbearing amount of gold and a turgid queen?_ Amaya wasn’t sure whether to feel liberated or saddened by the fact.

“She’s not worthless,” the commander said firmly. “This may be a human, but she fought bravely and she treated me, her enemy, with warrior’s honour. Should we not do the same?”

“Oh my sweet little sister Janai,” the Queen talked down with a dubious notion. “If you think this one is so special, we’ll let the Light decide her fate.” The Queen had a complacent smile on her face, as Kazi and Janai gasped and looked nervously and sympathetically at Amaya.

Amaya saw what looked like a bald elf, in (surprisingly) white robes with (unsurprisingly) golden edges that resembled a priest’s clothing, step forward and stand in front of her. In his hands he had a large golden staff with a blindingly bright white ball at the top, that was as strong as the sun. He lowered that staff with the brighter end right to Amaya’s face. She immediately winced and looked away, feeling her eyes were drying up from just knowing that thing was in front of her. Just as she did that, she felt someone grab her and forcefully turned her to face them… it was the commander, Janai.

“You have to look into the light!” Amaya read her lips, as dread crept over her at the words. “If you want to live, you have to look into the light!” She had no choice, obviously living was the preferred option, but was it worth being alive whilst deaf and blind?

She took her chance. She unwaveringly stared right into the blinding light, feeling tears well up and then immediately evaporate at her eyes. The light, much to Amaya’s chagrin, was managing to gradually become brighter and brighter. Her body was telling her to look away; she really wanted to. Her eyes couldn’t understand if the whiteness she saw was from the blinding flash or the fact that she couldn’t see anymore on a permanent basis. The light was still getting brighter. Her back and head reluctantly did not turn... her head however duck slightly into her shoulders as if that was going to help. The light still kept going brighter. She felt tremendous pain in her sockets and her head. She couldn’t hold on much longer, if at all… but she had to try. Her eyelids took on the mind of their own, as they tried to blink and hide Amaya’s eyes from the light. She wouldn’t be able to stop them… eventually they would close and she would instinctively turn away. She just needed to hold on a little bit longer…

The ball flashed brightly across the open throne room announcing that the trial by Light was complete to the whole of Lux Aurea. Amaya’s back crumbled as she panted heavily. She squeezed her eyes, as streams of soothing tears trickling down her face trying to somewhat relieve the trial her eyes went through.

“A human with a pure heart… how original,” the Queen mused at the panting Amaya. “Just take her away.” She scoffed.

“Thank you, Khessa,” Janai said, as she grabbed Amaya and helped her get up.

“Queen Khessa, little sister.” She said formally and uncompromisingly.

“Yes, sister,” Janai replied obediently, leading Amaya away.

“Enjoy your little pet.” Queen Khessa added.

Amaya wouldn’t open her sore eyes for hours, if she still was even able to see, as Janai carefully, almost protectively, led her back to her cell and uncuffed her hands.

* * *

The sun was coming down when they finally got to the oasis, a safe haven from the deadly heat and soulfangs. The oasis was surrounded by the tall obelisks, that created a magical transparent barrier that would disintegrate any of these deadly creatures. Thankfully it didn’t do the same to them or their mounts as they had to wince through the blue barrier. The large place had blueish green palm trees and shrubbery that grew around a little refreshing lake with crystal clear water.

The ambler lowered them to the ground and Callum sprinted into the oasis with mad wonder in his eyes. It seemed that the magic of Eastern Xadia still hadn’t completely wore off of him, despite everything. Francis went to tie up the mounts to one of the trees so that they wouldn’t run out of the safety zone. From back here he could still hear anyone conversing.

“Seems cosy enough.” That was Rayla.

He heard something hit the ground with a soft but abrupt thud, followed by Callum yelping. Francis snappishly tied the last knot and quickly looked if something bad had happened… but everything was fine. In fact, when he looked at the ground it was only a pair of sleeping bags.

“It gets really cold here at night, so we’ll need these.” Nyx said picking one of the sleeping bags to herself, as she talked to Callum and Rayla. “I wasn’t sure if you guys needed two blankets or just one,” she suggestively wiggled her eyebrows.

Francis definitely knew that was a little bit too much of a direct tease and knowing both Rayla and Callum, they certainly needed a save, so Francis started heading over to them. There was a moment of silence as both of them slowly processed what Nyx just suggested, as they looked at each other wide eyed. Just as expected Francis heard both of them gasp and Rayla turned away from the both of them, nervously twiddling with one of her hair strands and blushing quite a bit.

“Two,” Callum quickly exclaimed through his own blushes, stumbling and stuttering as he impulsively scrambled for something. “Yeah, two. Because… if there was… just one… then…”

“Two, give them two, it’s the obvious answer.” Francis swooped in calmly. “It does get awfully cold in the desert and it’s better to be too warm.”

“Two,” Rayla confirmed and picked one of the sleeping bags and shoved it in Callum’s face so that he kept his mouth shut and didn’t make it any worse.

“Two. Two,” Callum quickly agreed, before awkwardly walking away.

“Suit yourselves,” Nyx said, before flying to the top of the Ambler’s head to get the extra sleeping bag for Rayla. Francis clearly noticed her pause and grumble for a bit, before flying back down… which was a little odd. She gave the sleeping bag to Rayla before innocently turning to Francis, when Rayla walked away. “Unfortunately I don’t have any more sleeping bags, so you’re going to have to share with someone. You surely don’t want to disturb them.” She winked and even waggled her eyebrows for extra measure, as Francis was left very uncomfortable by it. “Besides my sleeping bag is pretty spacious… enough for another person to fit in.” She insinuated, waggling her fingers in a beckoning manner.

“You know, there’s more to a candy than just the wrapper,” Francis hinted at his apprehension, hiding an incredulous look in his eyes.

“Oh, I intend to unwrap it, don’t worry.” She winked.

That was not at all what Francis meant, as he was disgusted by the suggestion. “And you have no problems with the fact that I’m human?” He played along, despite feeling awful in engaging.

“Everyone has their drawbacks,” Nyx shrugged her shoulders.

“I guess everyone does,” Francis said with a hint of mischief in his voice. “Those wings surely get in the way more than quite a bit.” He quipped and Nyx was left looking both tense and beaten, unable to respond back. She was definitely hiding something and that forceful flirting had to be a part of the act. “Unfortunately for you, I have a sleeping bag of my own.” Francis prevented any further possibility of her trying to convince him and instead ploughed on with confidence. “Which brings me to the question, why do you have three sleeping bags? Surely it’s a little extreme to have two back-ups for one person?”

“As you said, it does get awfully cold in the desert,” she smiled innocently… and it felt off. What Francis also noticed was that she didn’t look any better. He gave her some food and he didn’t recall seeing her eat any of it. By the very fatigued look on her body she didn’t actually eat it.

Not to cause her to become any more suspicious than she already was, she turned around with her sleeping bag in her hands to walk away.

“One last thing,” Francis called out and she stopped. “Remember, being human is not a drawback.” He said earnestly, before leaving to look for his sleeping spot.

* * *

_Rayla sprinted, full of joy and anticipation into Silvergrove._

_“Ezran, Callum, Francis,” she headed to her home. “Let me show you around where I live.”_

_“You won’t show us anything,” Ezran’s voice sobered her up from excitement. She twisted around to face the friends she was leading._

_“Look,” Callum pointed coldly to the front door. Rayla turned and saw Ethari holding Runnan’s body, grieving. None of them had faces on them._

_“No this can’t be right, I thought you believed in me!” She exclaimed._

_“You’re a failure! A coward! Within you lies a seed of weakness!” Francis brutally told her. She felt his eyes like knives sink into the back of her skull. “Just like your parents.” He finished her off._

_She looked back at her friends tears streaming down her cheeks… only to find out that all three of them were faceless too. “No!” She sunk on her knees, head hung, as she sniffled uncontrollably. “Not you too.”_

* * *

Underneath the waning moon, Callum woke up with his mouth slightly open; he must have been snoring again. He was actually really annoyed at the fact he woke up, because he was having a really nice dream. He could still hear upbeat music, with its fast tempo and his heart beating so fast like it never had before. He remembered feeling amazing, as him and Rayla smiled and laughed throughout the dance, holding each other close. They touched foreheads… and it was… absolutely normal… surprisingly. And then their faces leaned closer together, lips hovering tantalisingly close over each other… and then… he woke up.

It was the middle of the night! Did he really have to ruin it for himself and stop right when it was about to get really good? Until he realised… he was woken up by something. Sniffling! He could still hear them faintly in the distance. No… not in the distance… just a few feet behind him…. where Rayla was.

“Rayla?” Callum sat up and turned to look. She was sobbing, as she sat up, clearly alarmed by Callum’s acknowledgement. “Are you okay?” She didn’t reply continuing to sob, only quieter now. He got out of his sleeping bag to reach out to her shoulder, hoping it would somehow help her. He knew she would remained closed over her grief, so he remained patient as he would try to ease her. “Rayla, it’s okay.”

“Get away from me!” She threw her pillow at him and quickly ran away, while he was temporarily stunned.

“Rayla, wait!” He got up and ran after her.

* * *

_Knock! Knock! Knock!_ A flash of orange. Callum and Rayla plummeting down. The sound of the door being opened.

Francis gasped as he woke up in cold sweat. It was becoming a pattern now. The closer he got to the Storm Spire, the worse his dreams got. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, then looked around to see if he needed to apologise for waking anyone up. He frowned and rubbed his eyes, thinking he wasn’t seeing clearly… his body immediately tensed. There was no one in sight, absolutely no one: no Callum, no Rayla, no Nyx! Only Zym, who slept soundly.

He quickly got to his feet and unsheathed his sword, as he looked around in distress. Nyx must have kidnapped both Rayla and Callum! She decided to hit it where it hurt most for Francis. She would regret laying a finger on them!

_Okay. Stay calm. Stay calm. If she got them captured she will expect me to come looking for them. I need to do this quietly so she never sees me coming._

Using the black of his clothes to his advantage, he picked a side and went with it. He wasn’t sure who or what to look for. Nyx? Callum and Rayla? Where would she even hide them in this oasis?

Francis snuck around the bushes, thinking of his plan of action. After a few minutes, he reconsidered returning to the camp and check the other side, but then he heard a pair of voices.

 _Callum and Rayla!_ He went straight for them, still using the bushes as cover.

* * *

Callum found Rayla sitting on a fallen palm tree, curled up on herself and holding her knees tightly to her chest. She had her hood on to hide her face. Callum sighed and approached her.

“Please leave me alone,” Rayla begged, clutching the side of her hood as her hung head drooped underneath her crossed arms. She did everything she could to hide her face. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”

Callum ignored her request and sat right beside her. “I don’t care if you’re crying,” he said, trying to be a good friend and support her. “I’m here with you.”

Rayla pushed him lightly backwards, causing Callum to slide off the bark. She ran towards the edge of the small lake that the oasis had and having found herself unable to run away anywhere else, she finally caved in.

“I’m a mess,” she revealed her weeping face to Callum, in what must have been a feat of courage for her, but then she almost immediately hid behind her hood again.

“No, you’re not. It’s okay.” Callum insisted.

“I’ve lost everything,” she continued. “My parents, the people who cared about me, my home… there is nowhere I belong now.”

“That’s not true, Rayla,” he told her, as he tried to grab her shoulder again. She still had them. “You’re going through a hard time, that’s all.”

“That’s not all!” She stepped away from him just before he managed to reach her. “It’s me and it’s all my fault!” She irefully kicked a pebble into the oasis. “I failed them! I’ve let them all down! They are right to reject me!” She sunk down and was left staring at her own reflection, as tears trickled down her cheeks.

 _This is so wrong! She is so wrong! Why can’t she see that?! She needs to stop being so unreasonably harsh to herself!_ Callum thought, as he began to take determined steps towards her.

“I’m not good enough and I never will be…” she decreed dejectedly.

“Shut up!” Callum said firmly, but with kind intentions. He couldn’t let this keep going.

“Wait, what?” She looked up at him, confused by his bluntness.

“Just shut up, you’re talking crazy!” Callum spoke passionately. “Just listen to me. You’re too good to feel this bad about yourself. I know that and you should know that.” Callum took her hands and pulled them up so she stood at full height, looking him in the eye as he spilled his heart out. “You have true courage and a big heart,” he felt a down-to-earth beaming smile appear on his face, as he saw Rayla blush a little and duck her head into her shoulders. He had no intentions of stopping. “I’ve seen you get knocked down so many times before and every single time you get up again. That’s real strength.” He pulled her away from the water, before he said lightly. “And you’re ten times funnier than any human I know.” His heart rose in his chest when he for the first time in two days heard her manage a short, but genuine laugh. He continued confidently. “See? See, you know you’re amazing. You’re smart and fast and…” Callum came closer to her and pulled down her hood. “… beautiful.” Callum’s heart was beating faster when her eyes crinkled, illuminated by the warmly shining moon. He inhaled before he delivered his final line. “Rayla, you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met,” _because I never met anyone like you before… and I probably never will._

She smiled so sweetly… Callum could stare at that face forever. He found so fascinating that whenever she smiled, there were always three smiles on her face. The two crescent moons on her cheeks curved like a smile… and so did her eyes especially at the edges where her tattoos kissed the eyelids.

She stepped a little closer… she was so close now. Callum resisted the urge to lean in first. He felt like it wouldn’t be the right moment. He saw her warm and soft violet eyes glowing so much that he felt his soul was illuminated by them. Her lips twitched and… Callum tensed, his shoulders rose in surprise. What was supposed to be a sweet and tender moment, a first kiss, was so unexpected for Callum that he didn’t have the time to process or even register the actual feeling. He wasn’t as good of an actor as Francis was and his face told as much, when it stayed frozen in confusion as Rayla pulled back. Her soft face and smile fell immediately when she opened her eyes and saw Callum… and that broke him, he couldn’t not tell her the truth.

“That’s not what I was expecting,” Callum admitted. (Thankfully at this moment neither Callum nor Rayla heard the sound of someone slapping themselves in the face, since it wasn’t just the moon that was witness to this).

“You were saying all those things, so I thought,” Rayla stammered.

“No, I mean,” Callum stammered even harder. “I didn’t say those things so you would…” Callum trailed off. He still couldn’t quite believe at what just happened. He never expected her to do it now when she was so emotionally vulnerable.

Rayla gasped and quickly turned away. “We will never speak of this again. Do you understand?”

“Of course. Of course, yeah. Of course I do,” Callum said swiftly, despite feeling reluctant.

“No, I mean never,” she pointed threateningly at him, as she approached him, holding her left wrist. “I will bind myself to killing you, if you even mention…”

“Why would I?” Callum scoffed, his hands raised. “Pffft, no.” He chuckled nervously.

“We walk away and this never happened!” Rayla drilled the point home.

“Perfect,” Callum agreed, before promptly slapping himself in the face behind her back. He felt like a total idiot. He did everything right, even if it was on accident, just to screw it up right in the end. Why didn’t he just admit his feelings for her. He almost did it… and it was clearly okay to do so, since she leant in first. He felt it wasn’t the right moment because she was so emotional, but it was not for him to decide what was right for her in that moment. She clearly signalled that she was fine… and he didn’t catch them at all. And now she probably thought that her feelings were unrequited. Was his chance completely gone now?

“Thank the stars, you’re safe!” Francis’s voice brought him out of his thoughts. He ran out to them from the camp’s direction.

“We weren’t supposed to be safe?” Rayla asked confused.

“I woke up and there wasn’t anyone around apart from Zym,” Francis explained. “I thought she kidnapped you or held you hostage or something, I was really scared. So I’ve been searching for you.”

“Yeah, we’re safe,” Callum said concealing his dejectedness.

“Is Nyx with you?” Francis asked.

“No,” Rayla replied.

“She was asleep when we left,” Callum recalled.

“She was never with you?” Francis asked, but it was a rhetorical question. You could see the cogs turning in his head through his brown eyes… which went wide in a split second and his mouth went a little agape.

Rayla must have come to the same revelation at the exact same time. Without saying anything they ran in the direction of the camp, leaving Callum to chase after them. Callum was a little slower than them, but was very soon on the same page when he realised that Zym was left alone back at the camp.

* * *

“Idiot! Idiot! Idiot! What was I thinking?!” Francis was grumbling loudly to himself, as his body constantly remained leant forward. Why would he think that Rayla or Callum would get kidnapped? How would Nyx even be able to hold Rayla down? It was obvious that from the very beginning Nyx’s behaviour was all a ploy. Her target was Zym and when Francis left the camp, anxious that his friends were in trouble, she took him and ran away. All this time, she only tried to find out Francis’s weak point. Why did he take this risk? He only had himself to blame… whilst completely ignoring that the decision was taken unanimously.

“We need to stop her before she gets too far into the desert!” Rayla exclaimed.

“Our mounts are gone!” Callum told them. “Nyx must have untied them.”

“Argh!” Francis shouted out in frustration. “They are out there!” Francis pointed beyond the obelisk wall.

The Shadowpaw and Callum’s Moonstrider were just a couple of dozen metres away from the safety of the oasis, while his Moonstrider was way off to the right. Him and Rayla whistled for the mounts to return… but only the Shadowpaw did so.

“Why are the both of them not coming back?” Rayla complained. Francis saw green lights dart around the two whining Moonstriders underneath the black sand. Just as per usual they got the worst possible scenario.

“Soulfang serpents,” Francis said gravely, as he unsheathed his sword and fearlessly ran towards his Moonstrider, completely ignoring his moaning side.

“Francis, have you lost your mind?” Rayla tried to stop him, but he escaped her attempts.

“A long time ago… I might have not had it in the first place.” He quipped. Rayla and Callum followed him out there, albeit a little less hastily.

“You’re supposed to stay still,” she told Francis.

“Tell that to our mounts!” Francis exclaimed sarcastically, thus explaining his bold behaviour.

“Since you don’t have a weapon, you are staying very, very still,” Rayla told Callum, unsheathing one of her blades.

“Yup, got it, still as a mouse,” Callum put his thumbs up. “Wait… are mice still… or just quiet as a mouse?”

“Just do both!” Rayla exclaimed exasperation, as she ran towards Callum’s Moonstrider.

Francis was intending to make as much noise as possible so that these soulfangs focused on him instead of his mount. He counted four soulfangs around his Moonstrider… five… six… oh, this was going to be annoying. Francis stomped his feet harder… three soulfangs stared their radiating green eyes and front at him. Francis sliced his sword through two of them, as black blood trickled down. He kicked the third one away and it retreated.

His movements felt clumsy and slow. Two more joined. He risked it, letting one of them attack first. It jumped out at his stomach and Francis spun his blade at the last moment, slicing the soulfang’s head off. The other remained standoffish. Francis unceremoniously threw his sword at it, cutting it in half and rolled to quickly grab it. His screaming side was chaining him to the spot. The sixth one… where was the sixth one?

 _Behind you!_ But Francis was too slow, his side failing… he felt the soulfang’s head meet his backfoot. This was it. He finally paid the price for being so bold… it was inevitable that he would perish after taking on such dangerous odds. But if there was some kind of divinity, then despite all the hardship he was given, it still had plans for him.

Miraculously Francis didn’t feel the bite. The soulfang didn’t bite. Something got in the way of it. Francis wasted no time in blindly slicing his grandfather’s sword behind his leg and the resistance against his back leg stopped. When he looked behind him, his cape waved protectively around his assaulted leg.

 _Thank you, grandfather, for still looking out for me!_ Francis said in his head.

“No!” He heard Rayla exclaim, as he turned. While Francis was successful in retrieving his Moonstrider, Rayla wasn’t. One of the soulfangs sunk its teeth into the Moonstrider’s back. Francis watched in horror as the previously black Moonstrider with light blue eyes, slowly turned completely grey, remaining a soulless and empty husk, as it ran away into the desert. The bland and lifeless grey definitely wasn’t a colour that suited Francis, he made his mind up on that one.

“Get back inside!” He barely jumped up on his mount and rode it to safety. He breathed a sigh of relief… but it was way too early.

He felt his hair turn grey and his heart stop completely, when he heard Callum frightened scream. Francis instinctively unsheathed his sword and limped back out. He saw Callum crawling backwards away from a soulfang. He wouldn’t be able to reach him in time. He flipped his sword and pointed it like a trident. He saw Rayla running back. He couldn’t miss; this had to be perfect. Any leeway and he would either impale Callum or Rayla. Francis readied for a throw. His hand shook hesitantly.

 _Come on, Rayla!_ She could do it! He relied on her, despite feeling sour at himself for being too sore to do the job himself. Francis remained reluctantly still. The soulfang lunged at Callum. Just before it reached Callum’s chest, Rayla caught the soulfang by its tail and tossed it behind her.

“Run!” Francis shouted, as he stepped behind the barrier. Callum made it… it was just Rayla now. She sprinted as hard as she could, with the soulfang slithering closely behind her. Francis could feel Callum nervously grab his cape and arm, almost hurting him, but he didn’t stop Callum.

Rayla dove as the soulfang lunged aiming for her foot. It could almost reach her… but it disintegrated as soon as it hit the enchanted barrier, as Rayla made it over. Callum immediately came over to her to help her get up, as everyone collectively breathed a sigh of relief.

“It’s too dangerous to go out there,” was the first thing Rayla said. “We have to wait until sunrise.”

“You two get some sleep,” Francis said authoritatively, as he walked away, concealing his limp.

“What about you?” Callum asked.

“I can’t sleep after that,” Francis replied without looking back or stopping.

“You need at least some rest,” Callum insisted.

“Don’t worry about me!” Francis barked, twisting around. In the dark of the night only the silhouettes of dripping black blood from his hands could be seen, as the orange lines on his shirt flashed, along with his cold unconditional eyes. He quickly regretted raising his tone as his forearm rubbed his face. “Just try and get some sleep,” he walked away, leaving Callum and Rayla looking at each other with concern.

* * *

No one was able to sleep through the night, least of all Francis who menacingly brooded in circles around the oasis. At the first instances of sunrise, he wasted no time in packing up and getting going.

“Everyone get up! We’re chasing after them,” Francis said unceremoniously, saddling his Moonstrider.

Rayla and Callum exchanges concerned glances. Despite the sun rising, the dark night still remained… in Francis. The black clothes glistened menacingly like the void, as the orange lines were flashing an angry colour in the desert sun.

Callum realised that he would have to share a mount with someone, since his Moonstrider died. He turned to Francis. “Uuuuh,” Callum elongated a little hesitantly, until Francis’s look of ‘get on with it’ was enough for Callum to finally ask. “Can I ride with you?”

“No,” Francis replied curtly, pointing to the massive backpack that rested on his back and shoulders. Evidently there wasn’t enough space for Callum to sit on. Without another word, Francis rode off outside the obelisk barrier.

“Come on,” Rayla offered her hand to Callum. “We can’t afford to waste any time and I feel like he won’t wait!”

Feeling flustered at just simply anticipating how awkward this ride was going to get after yesterday’s events, Callum took her hand and sat on the edge away from Rayla, so as not to intrude in her personal space. His inability to ride mounts was shown on full display once again as soon as Rayla set off after Francis. Callum gasped and exclaimed as he shook from side to side barely able to hold on, like a leaf in the wind.

After about a solid minute of this, Rayla finally had enough. “Ugh, would you stop moving around?” She presses her lips together and even Francis who was level with them now, glanced expectantly sideways at Callum.

“Sorry, I’m just trying to find a good spot. Oops!” Callum exclaimed as he promptly slid off again. “See! It’s tricky.”

“Just hold on to me,” she told him, as Francis sighed heavily, finally hearing the easy solution to this problem. Francis did however sigh and shake his head when he saw Callum’s face blushing, unlike Rayla.

“Oh, I guess I can do that,” Callum said unconvincingly, as he finally climbed back up. “If you don’t think that would be…” he trailed off.

“If I don’t think that would be what?” Rayla asked with an incredulous stare.

“Weird,” Callum replied, preparing himself to wince at her reaction.

“You’re already weird, super weird.” She said.

“That’s kind of a given if you’re part of this team,” Francis quipped, yet his voice remained incredibly cold and hurt.

“Just hold on!” Rayla said again.

“Oh, uh, okay, sure. Sure. Not weird,” Callum feigned agreement. “Putting my arm around you seems very normal. I’m just, uh, going to do…” Callum took a deep breath, putting as much of his own awkwardness aside as possible. Just as he was about to slip off again, he quickly and tightly clasped his hands around Rayla’s midriff. “… that.” He stared at her in silence feeling like she was going to push him away… but no, she just stared back at him over her shoulder with an unreadable expression on her face, as he gave her a nervous smile.

“Big deal,” Francis’s jesting sarcasm brought their focus back on the road ahead. “Was it really so difficult?” He mocked, looking sternly ahead of him. “Now with that out of the way, can we please focus on chasing after Zym and Nyx.”

“How are we going to find them then?” Callum asked. Rayla looked at Francis, expecting him to answer, but his eyes were laser focused ahead of him.

“We’re tracking them as we speak,” she took the hint and went on herself. “I picked up a thing or two from Corvus,” she said, proudly puffing her shoulders. “It’s subtle but if you look closely, you can find the Ambler’s tracks.”

“Closely?” Francis snorted. “The tracks are about twice the size of our mounts combined… even a blind person can see this.”

“Whatever, you got the point.” Rayla shook her head at the sarcasm.

“Let’s hope that we catch them, before the sun sets,” Francis mused. “Introducing soulfangs to the equation would make things extremely difficult without the obelisk walls to protect us.”

Callum swallowed, as he felt Rayla tense underneath his arms. Their entire survival depended solely on catching up to the Ambler in time… otherwise The Midnight Desert would welcome three more souls for its grave.

* * *

_Knock… Knock… Knock…_ No… it was just the galloping noise of his Moonstrider. Francis was imagining knocking… or maybe he wasn’t, maybe the Moonstrider’s galloping masked the noise. Francis from beyond his blinding sweat anxiously glanced at the sun. Morning. Midday. Afternoon. Sunset…

“There!” He pointed at the Ambler in the distance. Bizarrely, it was standing still.

“What is it doing?” Callum voiced the question on everyone’s lips.

“It’s foot is stuck again!” Rayla proclaimed with reignited enthusiasm. “This is our chance! Hold on!” Francis heard Callum yelp, as Rayla’s Shadowpaw picked up pace.

Francis urged his Moonstrider to do the same. He looked beyond the now mind numbing pain from straining his right side throughout this entire journey, on which they took no rest, as they closed in on the Ambler. He distracted himself from the pain by constantly thinking of every single possibility… sure some of them were very unlikely to happen, but at least it made him forget about his right sided barrage.

It inflamed his anger more and more… but he kept himself in check. They were now close enough to see Nyx trying to get the Ambler’s foot unstuck… and she must have saw them too. Red flashed in his eyes when he saw what must have been Nyx stabbing the Ambler’s leg with her staff in order to force the Ambler to move… it worked. Just as per usual, they would have to do it the hard way. Him and Rayla rushed their mounts towards the Ambler, constantly avoiding being stomped.

“Wait. No, no, no, no. You’re not going to…” Francis heard Callum say, before he looked back to see Rayla leap from her Shadowpaw to the Ambler’s leg. “This is crazy… this is totally crazy.” Callum exclaimed panting as if he was the one who did the jump. It definitely was crazy, but it was necessary.

There was only one thing that Francis rued… his side refused to allow him to perform such a feat. It was beginning to become debilitating. Callum on the other hand lacked confidence in himself to make the leap.

“You can make it! I’ll catch you!” Rayla reassured Callum.

He hesitantly got his legs on the Shadowpaw’s saddle and drew his breath before the jump. Francis already knew that he wasn’t low enough to make the jump on his own… but with Rayla there to support him, he would be fine, he would be brave enough to do it despite lacking faith in himself. Callum made it onto the leg and Rayla caught his hand before he could slide off.

“I’m going to try and stop the Ambler.” Francis shouted to them and they looked at him, as if they had trouble hearing… which was understandable considering the Ambler’s stomping. “Don’t forget that she has wings!” Francis added.

“What?” Rayla shouted.

“Wings!” Francis shouted back. “She has wings!”

“We’ll get her,” Rayla replied through the noise and she began to climb. Callum followed suit.

Francis had to come up with something that would stop the Ambler. His mind blazed at high speeds whilst trying to come up with an idea, as he overtook the Ambler. Now, was standing in front of it, the best solution available to him?

* * *

“Whatever your stupid scheme was, it’s over Nyx.” Rayla pointed her blades at the Skywing elf. Callum was a step behind Rayla, as he only just managed to clumsily roll over and land on the platform on his backside.

“We, uh…” he panted. “We trusted you,” he spat out… perhaps he was the only one who felt that way during this journey.

“What’s the big deal?” Nyx shrugged her shoulders, as Zym chittered beneath her tight clasp, his eyes ecstatically wide over seeing Callum and Rayla. “I was just taking Zym back to his mom,” she said with an innocent tone and a forced smile. The poor baby Dragon Prince was still oblivious to the fact that he was being kidnapped. “He would get home faster and I assume I’d get some sweet treasure or something as a reward,” she absentmindedly glanced at the top of the Ambler’s head. “Maybe some food or some medicine, never enough of those when you travel out in the wild. I’m sure Francis would be no stranger to that. In the end, it’s a win-win for me.” Nyx shrugged her shoulders.

“Hand. Zym. Over.” Rayla ordered.

“You know it’s a shame that Francis is not here, which is surprising.” Nyx stalled. “He went immediately after you as soon as he lost you two that night. What an ungrateful task it is to babysit,” she sighed knowingly. “You are no doubt the thing that’s holding him back.”

“Enough!” Rayla threw her sword at Nyx’s feet startling her. “Last chance!”

Nyx, this time very deliberately looked panickily at the Ambler’s head. “Wow,” she quickly tried to hide her telling glance. “You really think you have me cornered, do you? You’ve forgotten something.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?” Callum asked after finally catching his breath.

Looking a little unconvincingly, Nyx stepped up on the platform’s barrier and with a deep breath fell backwards, leaving both Callum and Rayla stunned. They ran to the edge to see Nyx flip in the air and spread her wings, just before splatting into the ground.

“She’s right. We did forget,” Callum pointed out the obvious and Rayla groaned at that. “Fine, point taken. How are we going to follow her when she’s flying?” Zym’s bellowing squawks of distress were growing distant, but to everyone’s surprise Nyx wasn’t booking it.

“Look!” Rayla pointed. Callum saw sparks fly off of Nyx. It must have been Zym’s doing, as the Dragon Prince escaped her arms and sunk its zapping teeth into Nyx’s wings.

They heard a loud yelp, before Callum saw Nyx plummet into the black sands below her, leaving a cloud where she landed. Before Callum could process exactly what was going on, he saw Rayla throw a piece of rope attached to the platform’s sides over the edge. She quickly grabbed Callum around his side, putting her shoulder under his in support.

“Here we go!” She exclaimed with unbridled enthusiasm as a light-hearted smile appeared on her face. That smile stayed on her as she daringly jumped off the edge pulling Callum with her. They spun around the rope she held, as Callum screamed the whole way down. He yet again clumsily landed on his backside… in complete contrast to Rayla, who graciously landed on her feet.

“Wow!” Callum caught his breath. “How did you learn to do that?”

“I’ve never done that before in my life!” She said, jubilant to pull off her manoeuvre.

“Wait!” Callum grabbed her before she got up. “What is Francis doing?”

* * *

To be fair, this wasn’t a bad idea, but perhaps it wasn’t in Francis’s best interest to attempt to pull that off in his condition. Yet there he was, biting the inner side of his mouth, as he stood straight up and balanced on the Moonstrider’s back. Going easy on himself just wasn’t within Francis’s repertoire. He waved his hands around wildly to try and symbolise a stopping motion. Ambler’s weren’t well known for their intelligence, but he hoped she could easily figure out what Francis was trying to tell her. He shouted a couple of times to get her attention… and he finally caught her eye. She curiously lowered her head and sniffed him, grinding to a halt… being a human was definitely not a drawback right now.

Francis stopped his Moonstrider and reached out to pat rewardingly on the Ambler’s nose. He rather short-sightedly jumped off and headed over to Rayla and Callum, ignoring the twisting pain. He arrived just in time to see Zym fly into Callum for a hug.

“Zym! You’re okay!” Callum exclaimed. “I’m so sorry we lost you.” Zym’s zappy kisses, as Ezran referred to them, tingled Callum’s face. “Ow, careful. Careful,” Callum laughed, “Nice job on zapping Nyx’s wing. Despite your size you can hold your own!”

“Help!” Nyx’s voice came from below them. “Help me! My wings are hurt, I can’t fly!”

“Why do my bluffs keep ending up so on point?” Francis complained lightly, before his eyes went wide. He saw the toxic green lights underneath the black sand encircle Nyx… soulfangs. Three. Five. Ten. Sixteen. Twenty. More lights kept coming.

 _She deserves it!_ Francis heard it knock in his head as orange eyes stared up at him. “No, she does not,” he whispered through gritted teeth.

“Please, you have to help me!” Nyx shouted desperately. Francis heard Rayla unsheathe her swords very slowly, as if also pondering.

 _You tried compassion and kind-heartedness and look where that has lead you. She betrayed you; she is lesser! If someone does not understand love then it deserves to be motivated by fear. It doesn’t deserve a chance_.

“Shut up!” Francis said with clinched fists a little too loudly, as Callum and Rayla looked at him shocked.

“Please, at least don’t abandon my little brother Aeneas!” Nyx pleaded on her knees pointing up to the Ambler’s head. There was another person with her! The orange eyes disappeared. Francis darted to her without a moment of hesitation, entirely forgetting about his failing side.

“Get Zym back to safety,” he shouted as he ran valiantly to Nyx.

“Are you crazy?!” Rayla exclaimed… well the answer to that was well known. “Callum stay here! Get Zym back to the Ambler.” She slid down after him. “Francis, you do know that I’m quicker than you?” She shouted after him.

“Then why am I here before you?” Francis replied, not looking at her. Instead he scanned around them counting the soulfangs that were sprawling from underneath the sand, hissing at their opposers. “At least two dozen against the two of us… I like those odds,” he said nonchalantly. He waved his sword around, sending soulfang heads flying left and right, as well as using his cape in a well-timed fashion to block a few soulfangs pouncing at him. He was yet again brazen in his nature as he kicked some soulfangs away, determined to keep Nyx alive. That tenacity offered enough adrenaline to do his part.

Rayla slid down the dune, slicing the heads off with her outstretched swords. She skilfully chopped the attacking soulfangs in half with her swift swipes, as she reached Nyx, leaving Francis to clean up their exit. She was way more quicker and agile than Francis was, even if he wasn’t injured.

“Stay right behind me!” She ordered Nyx.

“Okay,” she replied. Nyx backtracked towards the exit that Francis cleared up, as Rayla covered her six, killing soulfangs with ease.

Callum who remained an observer for obvious reasons, held out his hand to help Nyx up. She took it and quickly ran towards the Ambler’s tail that was expectantly waiting for its passengers.

The adrenaline however quickly wore off… as Francis climbed up the dune towards Callum, he felt a pain shoot down his leg as he slipped. He stuck his sword into the ground before he slid off to certain doom.

“Callum,” Francis was forced to ask for help, as he reached his hand out to him. Callum of course was quite surprised that Francis needed his help, since no one knew about Francis’s condition yet, but he didn’t waste a second in dragging him up.

Francis limped as soon as he got over the dune’s hill. Rayla thankfully didn’t need help as she used her swords to flip her over the edge. They all thankfully made it out alive after the crazy dangerous attempt… which was becoming a new norm at this rate.

Well, they all made it out, but Callum, with Zym on his shoulder, was still rooted to the spot. He clearly was awe struck by Rayla’s fighting display, which in fairness was performed exquisitely and was head and shoulders above what she done in training.

“Callum, why aren’t you running?” Rayla called out.

“I think he’s being magnanimous and doesn’t want to leave the soulfangs with empty stomachs,” Francis quipped, as he heavily limped, which thankfully no one noticed.

“Right. Sorry. Sorry,” Callum ran onto the tail with them.

“Then he must have been admiring someone.” Francis remarked jocundly.

* * *

Francis kneeled over the feverish body of Aeneas, a Skywing elf with black hair who looked around Ezran’s age and unlike his sister did not have the wings located on his back. Francis did not spare a single water drop from the boy, despite looking like his throat was dry from travelling in the desert. He frantically searched in his backpack for some medicinal substances constantly referring to his medical tome.

Rayla on the other hand was pulling up the rope she used to slide down. She occasionally glanced at Callum, who leant against the side of the barrier… not doing anything productive. She could sometimes feel his loud look on her, despite staying wordless. It gave her a warm but melancholic reminder that her feelings were unrequited.

“I knew Francis was too morally righteous to not come down and help me,” Rayla heard Nyx’s voice come from behind her. Rayla didn’t turn and didn’t even look over her shoulder. “But why did you save me? Even after I tricked you and betrayed you?” Rayla remained rigidly reticent, before Nyx continued smugly. “It’s because I’m charming, right? Despite it all, you can’t help but like me?”

“Nope, that’s not it,” Rayla quickly replied, feeling annoyed at Nyx’s nosiness and aloofness. “I do not like you at all.”

“Oh. Then why?” Nyx persisted.

Rayla didn’t want to deign her with the answer. The decision never felt forced or too big for her anyway despite Francis getting ahead of her. It was just what any decent person would do, should do.

“It’s because Rayla is a hero,” she heard Callum reply.

“What?” She raised her head to look at him in surprise. She stopped doing whatever she was doing with that rope.

“Rayla saves people,” Callum continued not reacting to her question. “She is brave. She does what’s right, even if it puts her own life in danger and even when the odds seem impossible.” Rayla’s heartrate steadily rose, as her body fully turned to face him. “Even when it means her own people might misunderstand and turn against her. Rayla is selfless, strong and caring,” Callum was standing up now, gazing deeply into her eyes. “That’s what makes her a hero,” her heart beat faster than the stomping of the galloping mounts ever could. She was afraid her heart would rupture. “That’s what makes her Rayla.”

“It’s at this moment we have stopped existing.” Francis, who momentarily stopped treating Aeneas, chuckled shaking his head… and he was right, because that sounded so far away to Rayla.

Her breath became hitched, as she realised she was holding it throughout Callum’s speech. Her walled, beating and loving heart was threatening to escape the boundaries of her chest.

“You are so…” Callum stepped closer to her. The thin moon was smiling at them brightly with no clouds in sight to cover it.

 _I am so… what, Callum?_ A question wordlessly hovered over her lips, as she held her breath, waiting for him to finish his sentence… but it never came. He leaned into her, as his lips blossomed over hers. She stared at him in disbelief though his eyes were closed in bliss. His mouth felt dry and salty from all the sweating he went through in the desert… and it probably was the same for him… but that kiss sent the sweetest feeling from her heart across her entire body. Her disbelief quickly faded as she liberated the air she held through her nose and her eyes were languorously closing, feeling ease spread across her shoulders. She slowly leant into the kiss herself, as she began to feel whole and free… but before she fully dove deep into it, Callum was already pulling away. Rayla’s heart sang along as she saw a song of love on his face… before it quickly turned to flustered panic.

“Oh no. I’m so… I’m sorry,” Callum’s head ducked into his shoulders, as he stumbled, threatening his feelings to be covered back up again. “I just got carried away. Next thing I knew, my lips were getting ahead of me and I…”

“Shut up,” Rayla masked the sound of Francis slapping his own face again, as she stopped Callum from coming up with any more excuses.

“What?” Callum asked a little deflated.

She had enough of going around in circles; who was feeling what about the other. It was time to be clear in their feelings for each other, because now she knew. She grabbed his scarf and pulled him closer to her. She looked at her target – Callum’s lips… but then her eyes lifted to his face and looked deeply into his eyes, deeper than he managed before. There was a mixture of panic, confusion and worry in his face, as he was frozen in uneasy anticipation. She was about to make that all go away. The song of love that she saw would become their anthem, as their faces would join together to sing in unison.

She pounced on his lips. She could feel Callum’s shoulders straighten, as if wings grew on his back. She could feel her own wings growing on her lower back… but those were just Callum’s warm hands pulling her closer. Her hand that held his scarf, slid down and remained over his chest. She could feel his quickly beating heart that demanded to be heard, seemingly in synchrony with hers, in beat of their song. She pulled back slightly, their foreheads resting on each other’s. She saw a sweet look of utter joy spark in Callum’s eyes and face… just like she envisioned would happen the first time, only this was better. She felt she would overdose from joy that was in elative excess in her blood, as she felt herself radiate brighter than the moon ever could.

“Woah…” Callum murmured softly and it was like music to her ears. They both went back for another kiss, holding each other closer and snugly. It felt too good to be true, like it was a dream… but it was actually happening… it was a lucid dream then.

* * *

Francis looked away from the snogging couple, blissful in each other’s presence. It was a very sweet moment, that couldn’t not make him smile. He was really happy to see such wholesome things; they hadn’t happened too often for him in recent years… up until he met Callum, Rayla and Ezran. In that moment they forgot that they were on the Ambler, that Francis and Nyx were there treating a poor Aeneas, that they were on a dangerous quest.

Francis felt slightly jealous, as he wished he could forget about it… but staying constantly focused was his role. He wished he could get distracted in someone else, like these two were. The only distraction for Francis were either books or talking to his friends, way into the night, cutting down on their sleep time. It was a welcomed breath of fresh air, before being plunged back into reality… but it was never as bad if his friends were there. Sometimes he talked into the night so that he wasn’t left alone. With all of that being said, ever since the development of the romantic side of his friends’ relationship, some feeling panged at his heart… and it wasn’t just jealousy anymore.

“Why are they eating their faces?” Aeneas asked naively and innocently, bringing Francis out of another one of his broodings.

He used his hands to obscure the boy’s vision and move his head back to face him. “Kid, you’re too young to be looking.”

Francis tirelessly monitored the boy’s body temperature, timing his intake of medicine, food and water, all out of Francis’s supplies. The poor kid suffered through a lot and the desert sun made everything worse for him… but at least he got to treat him just in the nick of time – the boy would survive.

After all of his work, Francis finally noticed that his friends fell asleep side by side, slumped up against the barrier. Rayla’s head was resting on top of Callum’s. A small smile creeped up Francis’s face, last time he left them like that the two nearly jumped out of their skins they were so embarrassed. Now they both willingly used each other’s warmth to sleep on… oh, how time flew; how things have changed.

Francis got up and quietly approached, afraid to shatter their peaceful bliss. He removed his cape and carefully placed it over them. Over his four years, it served him as a warm blanket on many occasions in time of need… and it definitely got really cold in the night in the desert. He eyed them again as his wholesome smile went wider and his brightly burning brown eyes crinkled… but then sorrow panged, as his head lowered a little, looking over them. He was the only one who was awake now… alone. He sighed heavily and leant up against the platform overlooking the waves of sand passing by in the distance, as the cold air bit into his exposed forearms.

He lost track of time, as he remained standing for a while. He was up for so long that he suddenly found his face lit up by an orange glow… the sun was rising. He also hadn’t noticed that there was someone else standing by his side. It was Nyx. She was nervously twiddling her thumbs.

“I wanted to say thank you… for helping my little brother.” She finally spoke. “After we became orphans I always looked out for him, so I really appreciate your help.”

“You’re welcome,” Francis replied tactfully. “I assume that’s the reason you didn’t fly away when you had Zym.”

Nyx nodded in response. “It might have only been five years on the run,” she said. “But he has changed so much… I had to carry him in my arms during the first few days. He might be eight right now… but I still want to carry him everywhere I go.”

“Time sure flies by,” Francis said sagely. “He is the reason why you betrayed us and happily left us for dead.”

“My sick Aeneas needs the food and supplies to survive… I had to take that chance.” Nyx said furiously.

“I understand… you had good intentions.” Francis calmed her down, his acceptance surprising her.

“Also, thank you for saving me,” Nyx added.

“I’m glad to help, but I’m not the only one you should be thanking.” Francis pointed out.

“I know, but you are the one who sets the standards in your team.” She explained.

“They were both decent people before I met them and they would have done the same even if I hadn’t met them.” He remained modest.

“Why are you with them, then?” Nyx suddenly asked.

“I wanted to help them back then and I want to continue to support them.” Francis explained.

“Is that really it then?” She looked at him with a creased brow.

“Does there have to be another reason?” Francis looked away. “Why do you care anyway?”

“In my childhood, trying to survive Vunopoli’s famines and ruin where I snuck, tricked and lied pretty much all the time, I survived because I was observant,” Nyx proudly lifted her head and pushed her chest out. “I know when someone prizes something greatly… these two,” Nyx pointed to the sleeping couple. “They mean more to you since you ran after them back in the oasis completely forgetting about the Dragon Prince and now you parted with your cape. They are holding you back.”

“How dare you suggest that?” Francis turned sharply to face her.

“Have they not had a breakdown in the oasis, you would never have lost the Dragon Prince in the first place.”

“I would never have come close to the Dragon Prince if I hadn’t met these two,” he insisted.

“You keep taking the fall for them,” Nyx continued. “You take the responsibility for every one of their mistakes.”

“It’s what I have to do, such is the selfless nature of leadership.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to like it,” Nyx pointed out. “I sure hate the fact that Aeneas is still a child, but he must take his time before he fully realises the tough path we’re on. You are frustrated when they make their youthful mistakes… yet you still keep fighting for them, falling for them.”

Francis looked at her silently, this wasn’t her trying to dig at him… or maybe it was, maybe it was karma for exposing her childhood earlier. At least she would understand where he was coming from. “They’ve come a long way; I watched them all grow,” he said with a sigh, looking downward. “I see parts of me in all of them with such clarity sometimes. It may have only been three weeks, but Callum is already not an impulsive flustering mess that doesn’t know who he is; Rayla is learning how to let others in her life and is becoming a better fighter; Ezran is a king now, leading others and learning the world around him!”

“You value them so highly… that is holding you back.”

“I don’t value their lives above others and the fact that I value them so highly isn’t holding me back! We’re a team!” Francis defended firmly. “A leader is as strong as its followers and is not a leader without them. If they are not fine, then I have to make sure they become fine so that we could go on.”

“You care about them so much that you look past the fact that their relationship is getting in the way of your mission?”

“It was my fault I was careless in leaving Zym alone and they are my friends; I’m happy for them. My energy is fed by the happiness of others sometimes,” Francis said. “And it will only help everyone in the long term.”

“And yet there is a melancholy to your smile, something is bothering you.” Nyx mused. “Perhaps, you’re not being held back… you’re afraid of something.”

“I’m afraid of many things,” he said, narrowing his eyes at her. “I don’t get your point.”

“You’re afraid of losing them.” Nyx said.

“That was fairly clear from the start,” Francis shrugged his shoulders looking away from Nyx and away from the orange sun.

“Yeah and what is clear about you from the start is the fact that you are like the wind. You are the one who likes pushing things in motion. You hate losing control.”

“So?”

“Their love is something outside of your control,” Nyx pointed out, as Francis felt that pang at his heart again, tensing him up. “You’re afraid of losing them that way, because you don’t want to face whatever you want to achieve alone. You’re afraid of becoming or being seen as someone else, someone who is cold and self-serving.”

“Nonsense. That is a total guess, a conjecture,” Francis called her out.

“Maybe. I don’t think it’s a total guess, but if I hit even a few of the points too close to home, it will make you suffer and it will make you think.” Nyx unceremoniously turned around and began to walk away. “I have to be with my brother, because he and I have no one else left in this world apart from each other. You have a chance to stop before they leave you or you lay your life for them, when they didn’t ask for it or were too careless themselves. I can see you are very ambitious and with your tenacity you have bigger things in store for you. You can’t deny the fact that the lovebirds need to grow and have their own life that will probably be separate from all of your crazy traveling and adventures.” She concluded and with her more or less recovered wings flew to the top.

Francis stared after her… this was definite payback for pushing her buttons about the childhood. Despite the cynicism of her message… there was bitter hurtful prospect to her words. He wasn’t forced to be with the Team, he wasn’t obliged in the slightest – he chose to be here, he wanted to be with them… and he didn’t want to let go of them. These people were reliable and strong and they would help him achieve his life goals, they were worth holding onto… but Nyx was right, they had their own lives to worry about and who said that his life goal was part of their lives. It was possible that no matter how much he wanted to be there with them, life might force them to grow apart…

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Francis whispered ruefully. His face remained orange under the sunlight.

* * *

“What do you mean The Breach is impassable?!” Viren exclaimed at the scouts that returned to him, with the lava river already within their sights.

“It has been destroyed a week ago by General Amaya, sir.”

“So does that mean we are stranded on the human side of Xadia?” Soren asked rubbing his hurt ribs. Aaravos rubbed his hands together. The good part was about to come out.

“Dad,” Claudia rode her horse to be level with Viren. “We are going to cross the border. Soren in his fight with the dragon, managed to cut something off.” Out of her backpack she took out the red horn.

“Yes!” Aaravos exclaimed. As expected, she had immense potential of a powerful Dark Mage within her – she already knew of that spell.

Viren took the horn and quickly rode towards the lava. This couldn’t be more perfect. When he arrived at the side of the lava, Aaravos prepared to let Viren’s army witness his apparent power. Surrounded by his children, Prince Kasef and Councilman Saleer, Viren began to chant the spell, with the horn in his hand and the staff in the other. The horn levitated and dissolved into purple smoke that travelled through his hands into his staff. Viren thrusted the staff into the ground and it produced freezing gales that pushed the lava in front of him to the side, creating a pathway into Xadia. As the lava waves rose higher and higher, the lava cooled down creating a wall that shielded the path. As the path formed Aaravos’s apparition theatrically bowed, welcoming Viren and his army in. The army cheered at the success and the feat that they thought only Viren performed. The grey and withered Viren barely managed to get on his horse. The Dark Mage triumphantly charged across the newly formed path into Xadia.

It was only three days until they would reach The Storm Spire.


	22. The Cost of War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The finishing line was in sight for Team Zym, as they neared the Storm Spire. Yet, Francis remained uncharacteristically tense. Darkness was closing in on them once again, with Lux Aurea standing in the way. However, help was also racing across to them... even from an unexpected place, as a Queen faced a familiar dilemma.

Francis hadn’t moved from his spot where he pensively stared into the distance, ignoring his shivering. His fingers tapped on the barrier as he counted the time that passed in his head. The orange light on his face was slowly and mercifully going away… and he wouldn’t have to shiver much longer.

For the past few hours all he was listening to were steady and peaceful breathing of Callum, Rayla and Zym, who all slept next to each other. He lowered his head, his forehead resting on the back of his hands. He started to tap his foot. He was beginning to hate the fact that he was standing still… everything felt too slow. When would they finally reach the end of the black sanded desert?

 _Soon_ , he kept telling himself… well, actually, apparently now.

Nyx flew down to their platform and got up to the sleeping trio. “Wake up, love bugs. This is your stop.” She said, before quickly stepping backward. Zym growled at her, lightning bolts jumping around his body, ready to pounce if Nyx stepped any closer.

“Good boy, Zym,” Francis smirked genuinely, turning and leaning against the barrier with his back. By inconspicuously gliding his hand through his forelock to straighten it, he quickly hid what he thought Rayla referred to as his ‘thinking face’. When they woke up, she was inquisitively clutching the end of his cape.

“Did you put your cape over us?” Callum asked… that was rather pointless.

“No, he borrowed the exact replica off a stranger that magically appeared in the night.” Rayla said sarcastically.

“Is it not obvious?” Francis just asked simply, before rubbing his hands. “Anyways, good morning you three. How was your first night together?”

“What do you mean?” Callum looked at him, genuinely unsure.

“Wow, Callum, don’t you realise how cool you are now?” Francis acted surprised, as a slight sarcastic tone was present in his voice. “You can now claim that you have an invisible, back-flipping girlfriend, that’s not a figment of your imagination!”

“Oh, that’s very true I guess,” Callum got up groggily.

“Just imagine Ezran’s reaction when he finds out about you two.” Francis giggled.

“Yeah, no,” Rayla said. “That guy will have to wait a little. He needs to get eased into it.”

“Oh, he won’t be,” Francis grinned. “It was incredibly bothersome to feel like a third wheel in your very awkward flustered interactions, because you two were very painfully obvious that you liked each other. Honestly, it sometimes hurt my heart to see you meander over your feelings,” _not because it was relatable, cringy or infuriating or anything._ “However, I highly doubt now that you know you like each other, that you will be able to hide it well.”

“Is that a challenge?” Rayla shot up, holding the cape in her left hand.

“That kid is too smart and you know it,” Francis didn’t back down. “He’ll figure it out… unless you do something in front of him.”

“How about a bet?” Rayla imposed.

“One that I always win?” Francis asked cheekily.

“When we meet Ezran again, he will take at least a week to figure out that me and Callum are a thing.” She offered her hand as a sign of sealing the bet.

Francis thought for a moment. “Three days,” he said. “And I’m being very generous and optimistic here.”

“Okay, that’s a deal.” She said complacently and they shook on it. Rayla’s challenging smile however slowly faded away. Just before she was about to hang over Francis’s cape she noticed his eyes. They were red… almost bloodshot. “Francis,” a jarring shock was present in her voice. “You have bags under your eyes. Have you slept at all?” She also noticed that Francis wasn’t exactly standing straight. Her eyes darted to his right side, but he quickly turned sideways… he must have noticed where she was looking.

“Cape,” he said a little tensely, as his hand expectantly stretched out to her. “Please,” he regained his tact.

Rayla wordlessly handed it over as she watched him put it on. The cape immediately hid the side from her prying eyes. “Why are you careening slightly on your right side?” She asked.

“Nothing in particular,” Francis remained closed on the subject… was this how annoying it felt for him and Callum whenever she was so defensive and was hiding something? Francis went on. “We need to focus on the mission and let’s hurry.”

“I know the Dragon Queen is dying… but why are you this tense about it?” Callum asked, standing in line with Rayla.

“I just don’t have a good feeling about this,” Francis replied ominously, as he headed forwards with the Ambler. He eyed the green trees that signalled the end of The Midnight Desert… and towering over them, piercing the clouds above it, was the mountainous tower structure of The Storm Spire… now only a day away.

Francis unusually clumsily kneeled down over his backpack and started to take thing out of it… mainly medicine, food and some fruit juices. He neatly laid it all out to the side, as his backpack nearly folded on itself from the free space it now had.

“Nyx,” he said, but unsurprisingly everyone’s heads turned. “This is for you and Aeneas.” Nyx stared at him, wide eyed.

“Francis!” Rayla exclaimed.

“No arguing, Rayla!” Francis stopped her, signalling that his decision was final.

“But you need those supplies too.” Callum reasoned.

“They need this more than I do! I have left myself some supplies to last me a few days.” Francis said. In reality he left himself the bare minimum to last him through this day.

“Francis, wasn’t saving them enough? They don’t deserve all of this after what Nyx has done to us.” Rayla spoke bravely… which was very foolish of her.

“I didn’t think kindness and simple decency had a cost.” Francis glared at her, making Rayla feel small under his iron gaze. She fell immediately silent.

“We’re here.” Nyx sheepishly pointed out through the tense silence.

The density of the trees made it nearly impossible to descend via the Ambler’s tail, but fortunately they would be able to get down on the Ambler’s head. With them and their mounts balancing on the Ambler’s nose and forehead, Francis noticed that Callum was clutching hard to the side of the Ambler’s face. The poor prince was afraid to make the jump, lest he would fall… and yet again Rayla was there to hold his hand and calm him down. He did however display his classic characteristic clumsiness, as he managed to fall on his front when the Ambler got them all the way down on the ground… at least the ground was soft.

Nyx soared down to them, just as they mounted. “Thank you for the food and… for not killing me,” she tried to lighten the tense mood that was still present. “You know for conning you and then betraying you, stealing your dragon and then leaving you stranded in the desert.”

“Nyx, stop… don’t make me regret my generosity and benevolence.” Francis sighed.

“No tip?” She laughed nervously, still trying her best to lighten the mood.

“Don’t ruin it.” Francis looked fed up and just wanted to return to the task at hand. The rest just stared back at her unimpressed.

“I suppose that’s fair,” Nyx conceded. “A word of advice, the air can get pretty thin up there.” That was another problem their Team would have to deal with down the line, but firstly they just needed to get there. Nyx quickly bowed and flew up towards the Ambler. “Hey, looks like I just gave you a tip!” She was still trying. “Guess we’re even now!”

“Have a good day.” Francis just helped to end it quicker, as his friends met her dry humour with unimpressed scoffs.

“Bye!” She waved and Francis quickly departed, leading Callum and Rayla… as was per usual.

“Why are you retreating so quickly?” Rayla mocked. “She digs you and she is totally your type.” Francis instinctively unsheathed his sword and pointed it at Rayla. “Jeez, I’m just joking,” she stared back at him wide eyed and incredibly tensed, while Callum froze grabbing Rayla painfully tight, as she yelped a little.

“For the time being, we do not joke about her flirty behaviour with me.” Francis warned coldly, scarred from her desperate attempts. “Understood?”

“Very,” Callum nodded.

Francis sheathed his sword and rode a little further ahead. “Let’s just get to the Storm Spire,” he urged, feeling two pairs of worried eyes sink into him.

* * *

Flying high above the clouds, Ezran was reading the history of the Pentarchy book that Francis gave to him. After a slew of messy and hard working days, he was finally able to sit down and help make good on his promise to Francis. Unlike how it used to be, this was the only thing that could keep him entertained during these days. As one would imagine, there wasn’t a lot going on up in the sky… especially if the clouds below obscured the picturesque views of Eastern Xadia. Come to think of it, Ezran had no idea if he was still on the Western or Eastern side of the border. At least last time they were forced to make a stop they were still in Western Xadia… which Ezran noticed was a very long time ago now.

He looked up from his book. “Phoe-Phoe, this is the third time you’ve been flying for the whole night,” he softly stroked the back of her beautiful neck. “You must be exhausted. Are sure you don’t want to stop and rest?”

 _I’m not tired_ , she cawed.

 _I am_ , Bait croaked.

“How are you tired?” Ezran looked dubiously at him.

 _Congratulations, you’re in Xadia now!_ Phoe-Phoe screeched and flapped her wings with new vigour.

“I can’t believe it! This is the moment I’ve dreamt my whole life!” Ezran triumphantly held Bait in front of him… it was just a shame he couldn’t see any of the wonderful lands through the clouds. “Oh… and by the way, it’s called Eastern Xadia.”

 _My apologies, welcome to Eastern Xadia_. Phoe-Phoe cawed. _I see, you’ve taken a liking to Francis. The man possesses grace and kindness of a phoenix, I like him too._

“Phoe-Phoe you did it! You got us here!” Ezran exclaimed with gratitude. His triumphant grin however fell quickly, when he noticed that Phoe-Phoe was panting. “Phoe-Phoe, what’s wrong?” He asked, his voice laced with concern.

 _Nothing, I’m fine_ , she shook her head, _Let’s focus on what’s more important here – getting you to your Team._

* * *

It was getting concerning at best and plain creepy at worst, seeing his father doing some weird stuff. Yesterday, Prince Kasef pointed it out and Soren originally scoffed, but now he actually noticed that, yes, Viren was talking to himself. In fact he looked intently to the side, occasionally even nodding as if there was someone there conversing with him. The more Soren thought about it, the more precarious he considered this situation to be. What were they doing here? Where were they going?

Despite the apprehension he felt Soren found the courage to ride up to his father. “Hey, dad?”

“Soren,” he regarded.

“I just have one question. Now that we are in Xadia… or should I say, New Katolis? Or East-Katolis…”

“Ugh, you are starting to sound like Him.” Viren scoffed.

“…Katol-east?” Soren still tried, not taking the hint.

“Get on with it, son.” Viren was exasperated.

“What’s the plan?” Soren asked, carefully regarding his father’s reaction. Viren didn’t reply immediately, in fact he barely glanced at him.

“You do not need to concern yourself with the plan.” He eventually told him.

“I mean, you do have a plan, right?” Soren asked.

“My plan will be revealed at the appropriate time.”

“I am a Crown Guard,” Soren persisted. “Shouldn’t the leaders know what’s going on?”

“Enough, Soren!” He suddenly snapped at him, raising his voice and making Soren flinch. His still not fully healed ribs felt the vibrations of his raised voice. “If you want to lead, you need to learn how to follow and if you want to learn to follow, you need to learn how to shut your mouth. Perhaps you could look to Prince Kasef for an example.” Viren nodded to the Prince of Noodleoodlia… ugh-whatever… who was closely following them.

Viren rode ahead and in his place Prince Kasef appeared. He had his back straight and his chest puffed.

“You think you’re so great,” Soren sulked. “With your quietness, rugged battle stance and your horse with kind eyes!”

Kasef promptly rode ahead, disinterested in Soren’s rant.

* * *

“So, what’s the plan?” Aaravos heard Viren ask him.

“To fulfil your wishes, of course,” he replied calmly. “Is your wish to rule Xadia?”

“I wish for humanity to flourish,” Viren replied. “And it cannot flourish with a knife forever at its throat.”

“So, you wish to conquer Xadia?” Aaravos coaxed.

“No! My goal is for humanity to have a bright future.”

“Right,” Aaravos nodded. “And this bright future will require us to conquer Xadia?”

Viren sighed at him. “Yes. Yes, perhaps,” he gave in.

Despite knowing that he would get his way, Aaravos did not show his disappointment at how easily he got it. Incredible strength and persistence was needed to change your own destiny and for someone who talked a lot about strength, Viren sure was awfully weak and submissive. It wasn’t even a challenge.

“The key to achieving your noble aims for humanity is simple,” Aaravos smiled slyly. “It’s the same as it always has been.”

“The key is the Dragon Prince.” Viren connected the dots.

“Yes.”

“But what about Him?”

“Him?”

“You know… The kid from the competition?”

“‘Him’ and ‘The kid from the competition’ has a name,” Aaravos said sternly. “And I ask you to refer to Francis by his name.”

“Francis is a traitor,” Viren said, his face grimacing in disgust. “And His name is a taboo in Neolandia and Evenere, saying His name could get you in trouble. I just don’t want to cause any problems if someone overhears me.”

“Then whisper Francis’s name if you are so concerned,” Aaravos said. “With regards to him, we don’t need to worry about Francis for now, as long as we don’t confront him.” It was best to avoid Francis and for now Aaravos intended to bypass him completely.

“And what about afterwards?” Viren asked. “He… Francis isn’t the one to give up easily.”

“That’s good for me,” Aaravos said with a malicious smile on his face. “I will enjoy testing him, breaking him down, making him suffer. We’ll see where his breaking point is. But that will happen later, let’s focus on the now. You must take down the Dragon Queen and capture the baby dragon. Then you will have the attention of all the world and the power to do what you want.” Aaravos continued to tempt, pushing the same buttons he had previously and just as expected he saw a glint in Viren’s eyes. The man was hungry for power and he was still under his thumb; Aaravos could do anything he wanted. “But first, there is something we need in Lux Aurea.”

“You want us to attack the stronghold of the Sunfire elves?” Viren looked baffled. “But we need to preserve our forces for the final confrontation!”

“Viren, I’m nothing if not elegant and efficient,” Aaravos raised his chin. “We’ll risk as few lives as possible… one.”

“Ah, mine,” Viren didn’t look particularly upbeat about that.

“Yes, now tell Soren to keep going in the same direction, while you ride ahead to Lux Aurea. When they reach it in the evening, we should be done.”

* * *

Phoe-Phoe was far from fine and it showed before, but now it was impossible for her to keep going. With the Moon Nexus far away, the sun at its zenith and subsequently the moon at its nadir, she began to quickly lose altitude. Phoe-Phoe was going to crash. She flailed her paws trying to slow down the fall, but it wasn’t helping.

Slamming through the branches and leaves she did her best not to fall on her side. Ezran jumped off, just before Phoe-Phoe hit the ground. He didn’t recall what happened exactly after he jumped. He was too dizzy from rolling so much on the ground. The next thing he remembered clearly was seeing Phoe-Phoe pressed against the ground, her wings flopped to the sides, as she panted uncontrollably and madly gulped for air. Her eyes were half-lidded.

“Phoe-Phoe!” He crawled over to her, he connected his hand to her forehead, while stroking its beak. “You’re exhausted and sick!” He comfortingly hugged her head, straightening out some of her feathers. “You’ve got us to Eastern Xadia. We can find them on our own now.” Phoe-Phoe only panted, not replying to Ezran’s suggestion. “You need to go home so you can get some rest and get better.” He continued to insist.

 _That’s not what Lujanne asked me to do_ , Phoe-Phoe forced a chirp, heavily getting up to her feet.

“I know she told you to bring us all the way, but…” Ezran got up right to her beak to look into her eyes, as he compromised. “… but you have to promise me you’ll be okay.”

 _I will_ , she cooed confidently, softly leaning her head into his hand. _I have to see this through. I made a promise and I intend to keep it._

“Okay,” Ezran conceded. “A promise is a promise and you don’t make them lightly.”

He climbed back on Phoe-Phoe’s back and after she recovered a little, she ran up and took off again, albeit a little sloppy for obvious reasons. This time they stayed relatively close to the ground, going high above the clouds was too much of a big ask for Phoe-Phoe in her state. At the very least, Ezran could now gawk at the foreign lands below him with his electric blue eyes: the luscious green forests below him, the thirst quenching rivers, the grand cliffs and trees… and the black sands that were approaching in the distance.

* * *

Janai walked down the steps to see her prisoner, Amaya. With Kazi by her side, she entered the cell. Amaya was not looking in their direction, reminding Janai that she was still deaf. Though when she began walking towards her, she turned… perhaps she felt the vibrations of her footsteps. She was really laid back in the way she sat on her knees.

“Are you going to interrogate me or just have another conversation?” Kazi translated Amaya’s signs.

“Don’t forget you’re still a prisoner,” Janai reminded her sternly, to which Amaya pointedly raised her hands and waggled them… they were uncuffed after all. “I can cuff them if you want,” Janai said. “But how are you going to talk?”

“She doesn’t need to talk when we are away.” Kazi thought out loud.

“You have been the talk of the city,” Janai quickly brushed aside what Kazi just said. “The first human probably ever to have gone the test of Light and be revealed to have a pure heart.”

“It is nice to still be able to see after the trial,” Amaya said through Kazi, with a smirk and a shrug to her shoulders.

“You are surprisingly humble for a human,” Janai noticed. “Honourable too.”

“There are quite a lot who are and some who aren’t,” Kazi translated. “But…” she trailed off looking a little unimpressed.

“But what?” Janai asked her expectantly.

“But it seems a little weird for that compliment to be coming from you, considering nearly everything in your city is made of gold.” Kazi said, swallowing her pride.

“It’s supposed to represent the golden rays of the sun!” Janai didn’t appreciate Amaya’s sass.

“You should occasionally look at what the symbols are made out of… it is still gold, still pride.” Kazi’s mouth was small from Amaya’s candour she just translated.

“What, you think you are better?” Janai heated up.

“Not really, no,” Kazi said flinching her head in surprise, “We are mostly the same… I can just admit our flaws.” Kazi looked pensively to the side, before finishing her translation. “Perhaps you should reflect on it too.”

Janai silently regarded her for a moment. This general kept proving everything she was taught about humans wrong. She had a pure heart, she was humble in some aspects and she certainly was a match to her when they fought. Janai found Amaya’s strength and courage admirable, although she didn’t appreciate Amaya disrespecting her sister, Queen Khessa. She recalled the first time they fought. Throughout their opposition General Amaya remained selfless and protective of her soldiers and she treated her with warrior’s honour despite the fact she was an elf. She was prepared to sacrifice herself to seal The Breach, a point of conflict that stretched back through centuries… but wasn’t there a ceasefire nearly a decade ago? Janai only now realised it – the war may had stopped, but the skirmishes never had. Now, there would not be bloodshed at The Breach anymore.

Janai suddenly felt heavy at the legs just thinking about how much struggle she, her people and humans went through over that passage. She suddenly felt the urge to know. “Are you fed up with the constant fighting… with the war?” She looked at Amaya, who pensively glanced to the side, before nodding. Janai continued earnestly. “The war has been going on for so long, but it’s a little scary how normal the struggle and the violence has become. Despite the ceasefire our people continued skirmishing. Aren’t they all tired of it?”

“New recruits, new blood, each younger than the previous one, keeps getting replaced, continuing the never ending cycle of bloodshed. The humans were afraid to stop feeding it, because we feared that the Sunfire elves wouldn’t and that would be our doom.” Kazi translated.

“Throughout the struggle, the Sunfire elves always aimed to pressure The Breach,” Janai told Amaya. “We senselessly threw our soldiers at The Breach and we were never afraid to lose ground, because we believed we couldn’t be defeated. Oh how wrong it was. I only realised that when the casualties piled up and I had to send each deceased soldier’s family a report about his death.” She noticed how Amaya sighed knowingly, looking slightly regretful. “Despite everything and after all this stalemate, no one has been able to challenge us and no one has been able to challenge me… until I met you, a human of all people… someone I and my people considered to be so beneath us.”

“Throughout my time as general in the Katolis army, no one in my army was able to land a hit on me,” Amaya spoke through Kazi. “You, at the moment, are the only one who has been able to hold your own against me.”

“I see,” Janai trailed off into silence, unsure what to do next after this piece of revelation. For the first time, she kneeled to be eye-level with Amaya. Janai regarded her for a moment, before deciding that the topic of war was becoming too tiring right now. She moved on with a slightly more cheery voice. “Well, as I was saying, you have gained huge popularity amongst our people, becoming the second most popular human in Lux Aurea and around Xadia.”

“Second?” Amaya furrowed her eyebrows and tilted her head after signing.

“Yeah,” Janai nodded. “Over the last two years, there were rumours and sightings of a human who crossed the border and travelled across Xadia usually with a green cape. He was named The Green Caped Traveller as a result and whenever he was thought to be spotted, elves would shout ‘You’ or ‘It’s You’. I had information that he arrived in Lux Aurea and I searched the entire city for him, but to my dishonour he eluded me all this time.”

“Did the green cape have a golden letter G on it?” Amaya signed very quickly.

“Yes, it is rumoured to be so.”

“That man is Francis. I know him, he disappeared four years ago! How did he make it all the way to the other side of the border?”

“I thought that this was your spy and you sent him through the Breach?” Janai shrugged.

“No, we never sent anyone,” Kazi translated. “It was a suicide mission to do that with Thunder still around. How did Francis manage to bypass our battalion and your guards?”

“Wait, who is Francis?”

“Francis is…” Kazi began to translate, but she was interrupted.

“Janai?” A voice came from behind the circle of fire.

“How dare you interrupt my therapeutic session?!” Janai shouted.

“Are you beating up the prisoner?”

“Yes,” she quickly answered.

“My apologies, but this is urgent. We have… an unusual guest, who requests an audience with Her Radiance.”

Janai reluctantly turned around and exited the cell, leaving Kazi with Amaya. As per protocols, the Golden Knight had to meet and speak to the guest first before deciding if the said guest was to be allowed to meet the Queen. She wondered who might the unusual guest be.

* * *

Janai entered the golden throne room with her verdict about the guest. While approaching her sister, she tried to hide the deep shock and surprise on her face, hoping that Khessa wouldn’t notice it.

“Your Radiance,” Janai bowed. “Another human has come to Lux Aurea…”

“Another one?” Queen Khessa shrugged. “I thought The Breach was sealed.”

“He must have somehow crossed a different way.” Janai said.

“You see, sister? You bring one human and the next thing you know, we are overrun with them. Throw him in the cell.” She said dismissively.

“But this human is the King of Katolis!” Janai insisted.

“Oh?” Queen Khessa feigned interest. “Then put him in the extra-nice ring of fire.”

“Sister, this human claims he knows what happens to Queen Aditi,” Janai said watching the act disappear on Khessa’s face.

“Bring him in,” she ordered, immediately leaning forwards.

Janai gave the signal for the human to be granted access. The man, who introduced himself as King Viren, with a grey outfit and an equally greying hair walked in, looking arrogant. Janai again paid attention to some sort of web that went over his right eye. His grey eyes fearlessly stared at Queen Khessa, as his crown reflected the midday sun.

“What do you know about my grandmother?” She demanded.

“Allow my people safe passage through Xadia and you will know the truth.” Viren proposed.

“Your people?” Queen Khessa chuckled. “Do you bring farmers and poets or do you bring an army?” She waited for an answer but Viren just looked around as if searching for something or someone, remaining guiltily silent. “Humans bring nothing but trouble and you are like all the rest.”

King Viren regained his composure. “If you allow us to pass, we have no trouble with you,” he reiterated.

The room submerged into tense silence, as Queen Khessa considered his words, staring incredulously at him. The priest beside her tapped the bottom of his staff against the floor, getting a quick flash from Queen Khessa. “We’ll see if we can trust you,” she came to a conclusion. “The Light will decide!”

The two guards behind Viren pushed him onto his knees to begin the trial, as the priest lowered his staff into Viren’s face.

“Look into the Light!” Queen Khessa ordered.

Grunting, Viren did as he was asked. The ball began to glow brighter and brighter, as Viren contorted and grunted louder and louder. The ball flashed… and when the priest lifted his staff everyone saw the grey withered face of King Viren, his eyes completely black.

“Your true form is revealed,” Queen Khessa concluded with disgust. “Ugly and evil. I’m not surprised… but don’t give up hope, you will be purified.”

* * *

As was fit in the Duren throne room, the grand entrance and the sides were decorated in marvellous illustrious bouquets of Duren’s best produce, the prestigious Duren rose – the symbol of the kingdom. As ‘The garden of the Human Kingdoms’ it was only natural that the most beautiful of their national treasure would illustrate and paint the throne room and its outer visiting area.

The blue and white carpet that led to Queen Aanya’s throne was laid out meticulously straight, not even hinting at the recent events that took place here. Queen Aanya demanded for everything to be pristine and clean, after all she was the queen of Duren and everything needed to show Duren in good image. Despite yet another recent attempt on her life, this time using some kind of Dark Magic, which was a new one in her growing list of survived assassination attempts, Queen Aanya worked tirelessly as if nothing ever happened.

In recent years, as she grew up, she shifted away from delegation and became more hands-on. Apart from her and the place looking good, there was work to be done, since the work of a leader was never ending. After all, there was more to the flower than its petals, because it wouldn’t stand if its stem was weak and the ground was poor.

Queen Aanya took seat at her throne, ready for her unexpected visitors to come in.

“Your Majesty,” her former regent and now an advisor, Aaron, announced. “Lady Opeli, Corvus and Barius of Katolis.” He signalled for the guards to let in the announced trio.

Queen Aanya carefully regarded them. Lady Opeli was dressed in Katolis High Council robes and Corvus was built like a soldier, but he wasn’t wearing any armour. What really confused her was Barius, who looked like a baker. What a strange group of people to be visited by. They respectfully bowed, when they lined up.

“Greetings,” Queen Aanya began. “You’ve urgently requested an audience with me. How can I help?”

“Queen Aanya,” Lady Opeli stepped up to speak. “We humbly ask for your assistance. A tragedy occurred in Katolis. King Ezran abdicated to prevent a bloodshed between armies of Neolandia, Del Bar and Evenere and the army of Katolis. High Mage Viren forced himself upon the throne and is now marching to Xadia. We need your assistance to stop him.”

“I have met the High Mage and I’m very aware of his agenda on Xadia.” Queen Aanya replied. “But I’m however forced to give you the same reply I have given to him and the other leaders who wanted me to join in their march to Xadia. I am not willing to sacrifice millions to die in violence.”

“Queen Aanya,” Lady Opeli continued. “We understand your convictions, but we must beg you to reconsider. Viren is not just a dangerous man for Katolis, he is also a danger to everyone around. We must stop him in the name of peace and prosperity of the whole world, not in the name of senseless violence.”

“I have already told you,” Queen Aanya repeated. “My people cannot afford to embroil in another conflict just to delay it from happening again.”

“Queen Aanya,” Corvus stepped up. “It may not happen again. King Ezran stands for peace between humans and Xadia, if we stop Viren now, then with your support there might not be another bloodshed.”

“Firstly, it’s only a ‘may’ and secondly, if that’s the case, then where is King Ezran?” Queen Aanya asked. She really wanted this to be true, but she had been fed pretty words and white lies before. She needed to make sure that there was absolutely no doubt whatsoever in their words. That there truly existed a peaceful path forward.

“King Ezran was sent on a Moon Phoenix to Xadia to reunite with his Team that are delivering the Dragon Prince back to his mother,” Corvus replied. “That gesture is the reason why there could be peace between humans and elves.”

“I understand your position,” Queen Aanya considered. “However who is to guarantee that this Team will fight for peace, that they will build upon their gesture and that there will be others who follow? Besides, I do not have a lot of men to spare and Viren has the army of four kingdoms combined, it would be a bloodshed to meet them in any battle. Is there anyone else with you?” The trio looked down silently. “Then we are alone.”

“We are not alone!” A loud voice proclaimed from outside the throne room. That statement was followed by the sound of the doors being forced open, as two men quickly walked in. The guards reacted and tried to stop them, but Queen Aanya signalled for them to halt when she saw Katolis symbols on the men’s armour. Despite the fairly rude interruption she had a feeling that this was urgent and related and thus forgivable. The two men bowed, when they came up in line with the other guests from Katolis. “Apologies for interrupting, we departed Katolis later than Lady Opeli, Corvus and Barius. I’m Commander Marcos and with me is Commander Gren. We bring you a thousand strong soldiers that did not wish to fight for Viren and remained loyal to King Ezran. Those men carry a badge, a broken chain link. We are ready to march after Viren’s army immediately.”

“Commander Marcos, I do not believe that a thousand more will be enough.” Queen Aanya reasoned.

“That’s not all,” Marcos continued. “We have the Team that will help us in Eastern Xadia.”

“What exactly is this Team?” Queen Aanya asked, which on second thought she should have asked to be elaborated earlier.

“The Team is a group of friend that consists of Prince Callum, a Sky Mage; King Ezran; Rayla, a Moonshadow elf; and Francis.” Corvus explained.

“Your Majesty,” Aaron intervened. “No human has been able to do any forms of Primal Magic and I have trouble believing in the fact that the princes stayed alive and befriended an elf, a Moonshadow elf no less, and a traitor, a coward.”

“Are you calling me a liar?” Corvus flared up.

“Francis is no traitor and he is not a coward!” Marcos shouted at Aaron, clenching his fists. He was ready to throw them and run at Aaron, but Gren managed to hold him back.

“I don’t know about the improbability of what you are suggesting, Aaron.” Queen Aanya spoke, impressed by the fierce and passionate reactions of her guests. “I’ve heard of crazier and more improbable things happening. Let us not look further than Francis for an example. He came from a well-known family; showed great strength and courage at the Pentarchy tournament, defeating three opponents on his own; was prognosticated for greatness amongst The Human Kingdoms… and yet he ran away from all of that and only the nobles and councilmen denigrated him. For being a coward, there were sure enough rumours of him standing up and protecting common folk from robbers and bandits… and didn’t he defeat four men with a stool in one of our taverns?”

“Francis is so much more than that,” Marcos stepped closer, his fists still clutched. “He is a hero and he doesn’t give up, always putting the needs of others ahead of his. He was right after all this time, that there could be peace between Eastern and Western Xadia and he is doing and will do everything to achieve it. With him on our side, we have hope for a peaceful future and we will crush anything in our way… but we need to depart now if we are to catch up to Viren.”

“Marcos, I told you that The Breach is destroyed, there is no way into Xadia now.” Gren said.

“Firstly, Eastern Xadia. Secondly, we are talking about a Dark Mage who nearly strangled Prince Callum and was convicted for treason, but is now the King of Katolis. He will find a way to get into Xadia and Corvus can help us track it. I’m not taking any chances with Viren.”

“Queen Aanya, we cannot simply trust their word, it would be a huge risk.” Aaron told her.

The longer Queen Aanya spent thinking about what was going on, the clearer it became to her that this, unlike previously, felt like a great opportunity, that there really was something going on. Her intuition kept telling her that she should take this opportunity… but she just needed to make sure of one more thing.

“Commander Marcos, your convictions are strong and I see that you put a lot of faith in Francis. However action speaks louder than words. How can we believe that Francis isn’t making a mistake and that he is reliable? How can we take your word for it?” Queen Aanya looked into the unwavering eyes of Commander Marcos, who looked hesitant for a moment, as he considered her inquiry… but only for a moment.

“On the night before the attack, I spotted the group of assassins and failed in my escape,” Marcos began. “The assassin who caught up to me was supposed to finish me off, but she didn’t. She hesitated, she pitied me. That assassin was Rayla, the Moonshadow elf, the so called ‘worst kind out there’ and ‘bloodthirsty creatures’. When I first found the bravery to tell about that incident, I was laughed at and no one believed me.” He turned so that he could see the rest of the group. “The following night, after the attack on King Harrow, there was an incident where my father claimed he had seen Francis… and that was true. He was in Katolis, because the next day I met him by The Banther Lodge, after we captured Rayla and the princes went missing. When I retold him about the incident, he didn’t question a single word of it as his eyes were full of hope, because he saw a chance that proved his convictions about the possibility of coexistence between our two races. He was reluctant in asking me to do it, but he asked if I could free Rayla to see why exactly she kept the princes alive. He believed that there was something bigger at play and I was convinced… and so I freed Rayla and helped her escape.”

“Wait, she didn’t escape on her own… all this time?” Commander Gren asked, his eyes widened. “You set her free?” Everyone in the room gasped at the news that Marcos just broke.

“She never has,” Marcos confirmed, his hands were shaking slightly from the nerves at exposing the truth. “How did you think she released herself from the ropes? I’ve put my faith in Francis and I risked my life for it, just as he risked his own life in protecting his newfound friends, I’m sure of it. The fact that Corvus found them later all alive and well and with the assumed to be dead Dragon Prince, proved that Francis’s faith was not unfounded. And with it, my choice of firmly putting my faith in him was the right one, even if at the time I risked so much.” Marcos took a deep breath as a stunned silence remained in the throne room, as Queen Aanya regarded him and became more and more convinced in her decision. He turned to face her. “Queen Aanya, I fully believe that Francis, Prince Callum, King Ezran and Rayla can help us and be an example that a peaceful coexistence is possible. In fact, in some aspects they already are proof that it is possible. I have full faith that Francis, with them around him, will do everything to achieve his previously unattainable life goal of peaceful coexistence, because life has shown that he has an iron will. I would like to hear your final decision, but regardless of it, I have made my choice long ago. I will ride out, follow Viren and try to stop him, because it is the right thing to do. If it helps the Team, Francis and the whole of Xadia, then I will do it and I urge others to do the same. Our plea of help, isn’t a question of violence, this is a question of stopping the downfall of Katolis and other human kingdoms and preventing another conflict. We do not propose war, we propose to stop it from happening in hopes of a brighter future.”

Marcos looked at Queen Aanya with uneasy anticipation, but her mind was made up. She decidedly got up from the throne. “Aaron, gather the generals and prepare my horse and armour. We are mobilising immediately.”

* * *

Janai did not wish to stick around for the purification process, so she headed back to the prison cell. She slipped through the fire to interrupt Amaya’s and Kazi’s conversation.

“You know, I think this interrogation is going really well – you’re not dead.” Kazi beamed at an unimpressed Amaya. Kazi noticed Janai’s arrival. “Bad news, my human friend.”

“Your king came seeking passage.” Janai announced.

“What?” Kazi translated, as Amaya shifted to face Janai. “That’s impossible!”

“The Light revealed his true nature. Tainted with darkness, rotten to the core,” she proceeded to scoff. “Such an arrogant man.”

Amaya mused over her words, before suddenly shooting up on her feet. “That man is no king,” Kazi translated. “He may be the most dangerous human in the world.”

“No matter,” Janai dismissed, looking away. “The Queen sentenced her to be purified. After the ritual, I doubt there will be anything left of him.” Amaya’s hand suddenly grabbed her wrist to make her look at her. Janai could not believe her audacity as she forced it away.

“You don’t understand,” Kazi peeked around Amaya’s shoulder trying to see her frantically moving hands. “If he’s here, then everyone is in danger. We have to stop him!”

Janai carefully regarded the conviction in her face… she had a pure heart… she could be trusted. “Okay,” she conceded. “But one wrong move and I will never let you see the light of day again!” Amaya nodded, completely unfazed.

Janai quickly exited and headed to the room where Amaya’s armour and weapons were located. She opened the door and stopped momentarily, considering just how bad this looked. This was crazy, she could totally be done for treason! She sighed and heeded Amaya’s words… if the threat was real and Amaya was so adamant about it, then she too wasn’t going to take any chances. She returned to the cell and let Kazi and Amaya out, who quickly put the more difficult pieces of armour on and then did the easier ones as they ran.

They headed towards the Sun Forge, a towering open building with a boasting bright ball of blazing beams crowning the roof of it. Pushing through the crowds, Janai managed to get a sight of the Sun Forge burning alive.

“The ritual has already started!” She exclaimed, looking at Amaya. She signed and Janai’s eyes instinctively darted to Kazi, but she didn’t have to. Not only it was obvious what she signed, but she already saw her use those hand signs before.

“ _We have to stop him!_ ”

* * *

The Sun Forge was shining brightly, its ball casting a ray, just a little bit away from the kneeling Viren, who was now robed in all white and surrounded by guards. The priest cast a spell on Viren, surrounding him with two spinning golden circles of runes that acted as barriers to prevent him from escaping. Queen Khessa nonchalantly stepped towards him, poking her sceptre at his chin to lift it.

“There is nothing to be afraid of,” she said. “The light from the Sun Forge is one of purification and is stronger and better than the one the staff possesses. It will only remove the parts of you that have been touched by Dark Magic… which is all of you.” She smirked sadistically, before scoffing as she walked away. “Ugh. Humans disgust me.”

The priest lifted his staff as some of the Sun Forge’s light was transferred to it. The ball in the staff grew bigger and flashed as the priest lowered his staff towards Viren, commanding the ray to proceed onto him. The ray met the barrier and the barrier suddenly became more physical taking form of white hot steam. Viren began to twist and contort.

“Your kind could not be satisfied with what you were given, so you take what is not yours. You take it within you and you turn it to filth.” Queen Khessa proceeded to express her disdain for humans and Dark Magic, not even deigning to face the person she was addressing.

While she spoke, Viren suddenly began to retch, as the guards that were looking at the execution began to narrow their eyes… then they all gasped. Viren’s eyes turned black and his face slowly withered. He threw his head backwards and out of his mouth, something disturbing emerged. The caterpillar that used to be on his ear… and small. This one looked big enough to go all the way down to his stomach.

Viren spat it out onto the priest’s lowered staff. Before the priest could do anything about it, the caterpillar quickly crawled up his arm and shoulder, before biting the priest in the neck. He yelped and his head twitched from the pain. The ball in his staff suddenly began to turn black with a purple hue. The staff was still connected to the Sun Forge’s light and soon the Sun Forge itself turned black with purple hues coming off of it as well. Its radiation was so overpowering that Lux Aurea submerged into nightly darkness despite it only being the afternoon.

The priest’s limbs began to twitch uncontrollably, his face contorting into painful grimaces, until white smoke began to project off of his entire body. The thick smoke became more physical as it covered the priest completely, forming the undeniable figure of Aaravos. The guards immediately unsheathed their weapons despite the ever-growing dilation in their pupils, as they stood frozen, hesitating to initiate the attack.

“Your arrogance is so predictable.” Aaravos’s voice remained smooth even when talking with disdain.

The guards finally coordinated their attack as they all rushed towards him with battle cries. Aaravos drew a purple rune with his staff and struck the ground, sending a shockwave from him. The guards were flung in the air and only a lucky few hit the columns… some flew off the Sun Forge to their doom.

Aaravos smiled. “You allowed my vessel to walk right into your court and then you brought him directly to the source of all of your power.” He laughed as he intricately inspected the staff he was holding. “Oh, the irony is wonderful!”

Queen Khessa was left defenceless, slowly backing away, as Aaravos took imposing strides towards her. “You’re just like your grandmother.” Aaravos hooked the staff behind her spine to stop her from backing away. His free hand remained behind his back, as he looked down at her. “Would you like to know the truth of her fate…” Khessa pushed the staff away, but Aaravos grabbed her chin, pushing her all the way to the edge until her backfoot was dangerously dangling over it. “… before you face yours?” He looked into her eyes that tried to remain defying and fearless, but were overrun with dread.

A malicious grin appeared on his face, as he leant in and whispered the truth into her ear. When he leant back he saw the utter shock and terror reign in her eyes. He quickly flicked his fingers away from her chin, igniting it and slowly disintegrating her body into nothingness. She tried to grab confusingly at her face, that was slowly disappearing from existence, before she went over the edge dissolving into nothingness.

Aaravos came up to Viren and handed over the staff to him with a satisfied expression on his face. The caterpillar crawled on Viren’s shoulder and Aaravos’s smoky projection disappeared, as the lifeless body of the priest fell over where the projection stood.

* * *

“No!” Amaya saw Janai shriek, as her body turned molten. She ran against the escaping crowd with enraged footsteps. Amaya chased after her. Thankfully she was quicker, as she gained on her and tackled her to the ground. Janai tried to wrestle from underneath her, but her grief was debilitating her enraged actions.

Amaya grabbed her hand and it flinched backwards, even her sleeve was already singed by Janai’s molten skin. Amaya overpowered the burning pain and forcefully grabbed her hand, forcing Janai to look at her. When her fiery yellow eyes met hers, Amaya shook her head before hanging it. There was nothing they could do anymore… not alone anyway.

Janai reluctantly exited her inflamed form and began to sob, her chest twitching with each cry she exhaled. Once Janai finally got most of it out, Amaya helped her get up. Thankfully Kazi remained with them, despite the scared and panicked crowd rushing past them.

“ _We must grab any remaining forces and escape_ ,” Amaya signed. “ _It is not safe in Lux Aurea anymore. Is there anywhere we could regain our strength and prepare to strike back at Viren?_ ”

“We must head towards the Dragon Queen, she will be able to stop this.” Janai said with a ragged breath.

Amaya nodded, feeling the strongest drive ignite her heart and mind. Previously this drive was aimed against elves, like Janai whom she was following at the moment, but now it wasn’t aimed against them. Now, it was aimed against one man – Viren, who must be stopped at all costs.

* * *

The sun was beginning to set, when the Team finally made through the thick shrubs and bushes and approached the Storm Spire… but in front of it was a rocky structure with moss already beginning to grow on it. It cast a great shadow over the Team… a painful reminder of how it all started… of why they were all here…

“Is it a statue?” Callum asked, feeling his breath quicken.

“No,” Rayla said gravely.

The rocky structure overshadowing them was a petrified body of Avizandum, which was a product of Viren’s Dark Magic. Rayla carefully looked over between the statue and the rest of her friends… especially Zym and Callum. Callum’s expression was unreadable. Zym however realised who he was looking at as he began to whimper, burrowing into Callum’s shoulder.

“Ssh, hey it’s okay, little buddy,” Callum comforted him. “You’re safe. You’re safe. We’re here with you.”

Rayla also approached them both to comfort them… only Francis remained standing to the side, looking plaintively at Avizandum.

“Oh, Harrow, why did you have to do this?” He lamented quietly.

“Are you blaming my stepfather for this?” Callum suddenly twisted, a cloud forming over his head.

“I’m not blaming anybody, Callum.” Francis said, still looking at Avizandum. “In our tense times, blaming is counterproductive.”

“Then what are you saying?” Callum demanded.

“I’m saying that I wish none of this happened.” Francis sighed sadly and Callum seemingly calmed down a little bit. “I wish no one had to die: Avizandum, Queen Sarai, King Harrow, Runnan… we shouldn’t kill at all, life is the most precious thing anyone has, but the fact that we resort to killing so easily is… pitiful… because no one treats each other with respect anymore.” The sunset shone on Francis and the orange lines on his shirt were reflecting brightly. “Elves and humans only treat and teach their young to treat each other as monsters and animals. It is exactly when they start doing that that they become monsters and animals themselves.”

“Life doesn’t seem to make things easier for us,” Rayla said wistfully.

“You know what’s the worst about all of this?” Francis turned to them. “I really wish that I could snap my fingers, reverse time and make it all go away… but if none of this happened, then I wouldn’t have met any of you; I wouldn’t have gotten to know you and you wouldn’t be the people you are now… and I’m not sure if that’s any better… I’m not sure if I like that.” He sighed, leaving everyone festering in silence.

Rayla felt incredibly sorry for him. Francis hated any wrongdoings, he wanted to do good things for everyone and help others – that was what he was doing now, alongside them. Yet, in order for him to get here, bad things had to happen – good things kept happening out of bad events. The silence was broken when there was a strange flash in the sky, followed by a screech and the sound of flapping wings.

“That sounds like…” Rayla began.

“Phoe-Phoe?” Callum finished for her, narrowing his eyes at the black bird approaching them.

She landed a little roughly, trying her best to look straight and gracious. The way she didn’t stand exactly straight and careened slightly to the side, as if she was trying to hide an injury, gave Rayla a déjà vu. However, back to the main question: what was Phoe-Phoe doing here? She bowed her head to reveal the reason for her presence.

“Ez?”

“Ez!” Callum ran towards Ezran, but Zym was much quicker, as he flew so quickly at him, he knocked Ezran to the ground.

Francis and Rayla also ran towards Ezran… but Rayla stopped and frowned. Francis was limping, fairly heavily. They didn’t do anything strenuous today, so he had no excuse for why he should be limping. She would keep her observation in mind for later, as she headed over to join the rest of the boys in their hug.

Rayla got to sink her chin into Ezran’s messy haircut, with her right hand around Callum’s side and feeling Francis’s cape curl around on her other side. Zym landed on Rayla’s shoulder, placing his tail around Francis’s neck and his wing touching Rayla’s back. Team Zym, now fully assembled, tightly hugged each other.

“I’m so glad to see all of you!” Ezran proclaimed.

“Us too,” Francis spoke for everyone. “But why are you here all of a sudden?”

“Let’s just say that being a king isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

“Ah, such is the nature of leading,” Francis simply said.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Let me have a look at you,” Callum blurted quickly, worry spreading to his movement, as he moved Ezran’s hands to get a closer look at everything.

“I’m fine, Callum!” Ezran reassured. “I’m safe now.”

“I’m sure Callum just really missed you, which is why he’s being so touchy.” Francis said jocundly. “I’m sure you’ll get to tell us over the campfire about your adventures when we…” Francis suddenly stopped, all the cheeriness suddenly gone from his face. “Oh no,” he muttered and broke the group hug. He ran towards Phoe-Phoe, but before he could reach her she fell on her side with a heavy thud.

“Phoe-Phoe?” Ezran turned around and ran towards the heavily breathing bird. He hugged her head, putting an ear over her forehead. “She barely gave herself any brakes over the three days. She practically flew me straight all the way from Katolis. She was so tired, but she wouldn’t let me stop her. You did so good, Phoe-Phoe, and now we made it!” Ezran praised the bird.

“I maybe still have something left that could heal you,” Francis said, furiously rummaging through his backpack beside him almost tearing it apart… but he suddenly just fell still, his eyes closed and his head hung. He had nothing. “I’m so sorry,” he said gravely.

Rayla noticed Phoe-Phoe trying, with her last strength, to rub against Francis’s hand. Even without Ezran’s ability it was clear what Phoe-Phoe was trying to tell.

“No! You’ve got to be okay! You promised me you’ll be okay!” Ezran clutched her by her head, feeling Phoe-Phoe exhale heavily and go limp, her colours faded and her teal flamed tail was put out. “Silence… I don’t hear anything anymore… nothing at all,” Ezran’s breath hitched, as tears began to escape his eyes. Rayla put a hand on Callum’s shoulder, sadness written on both of their faces. Her eyes signalled to Callum to go to his crying brother.

“Come on, Ezran,” Francis said, putting his backpack on his hunched shoulders, but Ezran wasn’t letting go of Phoe-Phoe’s corpse. “Ezran, we need to step back.” He grabbed the boy and carried him away from Phoe-Phoe and towards Callum, letting him cry into the side of his cape.

“Could you be a little nicer, please?” Rayla to her surprise heard Callum ask Francis sternly.

“I was,” Francis replied calmly. “Look,” he nodded at the bird.

Phoe-Phoe’s tail suddenly reignited in blue flames, but instead of staying at the tail end, consumed Phoe-Phoe entire body, turning it into a pile of ashes. The blue flames went high into the air and flashed brightly. In their place a nocturnal blue feather formed and slowly glided back towards the ashes.

“Phoe-Phoe didn’t lie to you,” Francis told Ezran, whom he was still cradling.

“She’s going to be okay?” Ezran asked.

“She is a Moon Phoenix,” Francis pointed out. “All phoenixes have a certain tendency.”

“When the time is right it will be reborn,” Ezran concluded, his face becoming less heavy. “During the full moon, I assume.”

“How did you guess that.” Francis remarked sarcastically. “Now go grab that feather.”

Ezran took the feather and put it safely in his backpack. Relieved that everything would turn out fine, he ran on to play with Zym. A warm smile spread to Rayla’s face, as laughter and yipping echoed to her. Those two certainly formed a strong connection with each other. She wanted to point it out to Callum, but she noticed that he wasn’t looking at the pair. He was staring at Avizandum.

“Rayla,” Francis tapped her on the shoulder. “I think it would be best if he heard the comforting from you. I’ll go and prepare the camp.”

She nodded at Francis and he walked in Ez’s and Zym’s direction. Rayla turned around and stood right beside Callum. He hadn’t spoken in a while, as he simply stared at Avizandum’s chest.

“I hate him,” Callum finally broke the silence. “He’s the one who took my mother.” Rayla’s flinch almost became external as well. She didn’t know about that. She grabbed her wrist, crossing her arms in front of her. She was always taught to respect the Dragon Kings, but what was she supposed to feel about the fact that Avizandum, the Dragon King she originally went out to avenge for, killed her boyfriend’s mother? Callum continued. “Looking at him, seeing him… it makes me sad and angry… and… and… confused.”

“Of course it does,” Rayla put a hand on his shoulder, recalling those same feelings about the cowardice of her parents. “It’s painful. How could you feel any different?”

“See that spear?” Callum pointed to Avizandum’s chest. The spear had a Katolis red shaft with two golden tips at the head. “That was her spear, my mom’s. My stepdad put it into his heart. How am I supposed to feel about that?” Callum asked angrily, looking at her.

“I don’t know, Callum,” she said.

“Glad?” Callum suggested. “Happy that we got revenge? Or maybe regretful and sad because…” Callum looked away from Avizandum and faced his laughing brother and the subject of his attention, who were both far away. “… that was Zym’s dad.” He said with a pained grimace on his face. Zym chirped loudly, playfully tackling Ezran to the ground. “I feel so sorry that this all happened.”

“Me too, Callum,” Rayla supported, standing in line with him. “But look at them, despite everything, they are here playing together. That’s the miracle, that’s hope.” Rayla grabbed Callum’s hand. “They’re the ones who are going to break the cycle.”

Callum smiled at her upbeat words and decided that she was right. They onlooked the fun that Zym and Ez were having, with the sides of their heads lightly pressed against each other’s. Despite everything bad that happened, good things still kept happening.

* * *

Soren lead the army on his horse, not feeling entirely comfortable. Sure, his still not fully healed ribs ached, but that didn’t concern him anymore; he could bare the pain. He felt off about his father. Doubt was creeping further and further in Soren’s mind. The longer he thought about everything that happened over the last month, the more wrong he felt.

It started small, if you can call it that, with a ‘simple’ request of killing the princes… or ‘doing the right thing’ as his father put it, but Soren was still convinced that the implication was to murder them, not save them. Now his father was straight up talking to himself and had a weird little bug pal on his ear.

Those reflections made him feel less and less eager to commit to whatever this atrocity was going to be… actually what was this march about in the first place? Did anyone even know what was going on? What was going to happen? He asked Kasef, Claudia, Councilman Saleer… no one knew the exact reason or plan. They were just blindly following him like sheep… and for some reason Soren did not feel confident that it would end up well.

Soren felt a chill biting at his arms, as he looked up in the sky. It felt darker than it should have been, as the sky had a purple hue to it, making it look drearier than a howling winter’s night. Suddenly, Soren felt his sister gasp and grab his arm. When he saw who his sister was pointing to, he felt his mouth fall open, because he could barely recognise his father. Not only Viren was withered and his unwebbed eye was completely black, but he had completely white robes and… and his Little Bug Pal now draped on his shoulder like a scarf?

“Dad?” Soren looked at his passing father with great deal of uneasiness in his body, as he walked past him without acknowledging him or anyone that stood next to him.

“Dismount.” He ordered them and Kasef, Saleer and Claudia all did. Soren hesitated for a little bit, but eventually he followed too.

Viren walked up the hill to overlook his entire army that was beneath him. He turned to them and began speaking to the soldiers. “I have been granted a great gift. The power we need to defeat Xadia and save humanity is now ours!” He pointedly waved his right hand that held the long staff with a dark fiery ball on the end, before continuing. “We must evolve. When we strike against the Dragon Queen, we will face elves and dragons and they will rain fire upon us.” The soldiers looked at each other, panic spreading across their faces, like a contagious disease. “But with this gift, I will inoculate you,” Viren reassured. “And instead of destruction, that fire will be our nourishment! Now, come forth.” Viren beckoned.

The stiff soldiers didn’t stir their stance. Viren darted his head from side to side, confounded by the lack of movement. Soren wasn’t exactly sure who in their right mind would risk taking his cryptic words, as he looked back at his father, waiting for what he would do next.

“Do not be afraid,” Viren said. “You will understand when you see the first to change… my own beloved son.” Soren flinched stepping backwards when he heard him saying it. He must have imagined it… he had to! But no, Viren’s hand was raised towards him. “Step forward, son. Let me help you, let me heal you.”

Soren looked at him uneasily, then glanced at Claudia. She also looked uncertainly at him, but her hand, that wasn’t holding Viren’s staff, held his wrist. She encouragingly nodded, rubbing circles into his wrist with her thumb. Soren took a step backwards escaping her sister’s hand. “I don’t want to do this,” he said in low tones, feeling increasingly smaller under his father’s unimpressed glare. He didn’t want to be helped, in fact he didn’t need help. He was fine apart from his sore ribs, but he would live and they would eventually heal.

“Step forward.” Viren repeated forcefully.

“I… I’m afraid,” Soren admitted, looking away trying to avoid his father’s infuriated eyes. Viren was about to shout but...

“I’m ready,” Kasef’s voice stopped him, as Soren breathed a sigh of relief. “I am ready to receive the gift!”

Viren smiled at Kasef, as he took him by the shoulder and led him to stand in front of him so that everyone could see. Soren saw Viren give him one last disappointed look over his shoulder, before raising his staff and beginning to chant the spell.

Prince Kasef braced himself as flame-like purple lights projected from the staff’s fireball onto Kasef. Feeling the force of the spell, he fell on his knees, breathing rapidly through his mouth. Soren saw Kasef’s hands and shoulders suddenly grow, making grotesque noises and ripping his shirt. His skin turned charcoal black and he transformed into a molten state. His eyes were the last thing that remained human about him, before it too fleeted away as the eye colour became an angry red. The monstrosity that was Kasef cried a beastly roar, signalling the end of the transformation and thus the end of the spell.

Soren took another step back and half turned. His dad wanted to do _that_ to him?! He wanted Soren to become a mindless monster?! How was that healing??? How was that going to help him???

The spell looked to have really taken it out of Viren, as he panted heavily, even taking a knee. “Claudia, the staff,” he said and Claudia ran to him and handed it over. Viren promptly got on his feet and spoke to the terror-stricken army. “Now, it’s time for you to embrace this power!” Viren began to chant again, as he put his staff in front of the fire ball, magnifying the spell. He sent out a purple shockwave across the army, who quickly all turned into fire monsters with molten orange skins and angry fiery orange eyes. The army began to give off the said orange glow, lighting Viren’s triumphant eyes and face. “Now we will destroy the Xadian threat forever. In two days we will reach the Storm Spire and kill the Dragon Queen!” He proclaimed with an ominous hiss.

Soren’s jaw was slackened. What did everything around him just become? He couldn’t recognise anyone. They all looked so alien, so unnatural, so scary… they looked like dark evil monsters. He didn’t belong here! This wasn’t him, he was the odd one out! He didn’t want to be associated with this, forcibly follow this! He backed off and before anyone could take notice, least of all his father, he ran away.

He grabbed his horse’s reins and walked in the direction of the Storm Spire, the residence of the Dragon Queen. He noticed something radiate a black light ahead of him… the Sun Forge… it eclipsed Lux Aurea. Soren shook his head. Destruction ahead of him, destruction behind him… everywhere his father seemed to go, nothing but ruins were left behind him. He looked to have been corrupted with Dark Magic and everyone around him was also being corrupted with it, be it directly or indirectly… he definitely didn’t want to be a part of this anymore. He seemed to know better than his father did, himself including.

“Soren?” He stopped in his tracks… it was Claudia’s voice. “What’s going on? Where are you going?”

“I can’t stay here anymore, Claudia,” Soren sighed. “You’ve seen what’s going on. What dad turned Kasef into, what dad turned the army into… what dad turned into…” Soren looked to the side, fully downcast about everything.

“Maybe he’s just doing what needs to be done,” Claudia said unconvincingly, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Claudia, you’re changing too,” he looked at her white strand, as she fiddled with it. “But it’s not too late.” Soren put a hand on her shoulder this time. “Come with me, Claudia. You can leave him!”

“Please, Soren, don’t…” her hand fell as she pushed his hand off of her. “… don’t do this to me. Don’t make me choose. Not again!” She was starting to cry.

“Claudia, I am not forcing you to do one or the other.” Soren reiterated, looking dejectedly at her. She was remaining silent. “Okay,” he sighed and opened his arms. “Goodbye, Clauds.”

“No!” She stepped away from him, her shoulder remaining hunched and closed.

Soren felt his heart pang, but he had to do what needed to be done; what was right for him. He began to walk away.

“No! No, no, no!” Claudia cried throwing her hands to the side.

Soren did his best not to flinch, shutting his eyes to prevent a tear from escaping it, as he mounted his horse with a deep long sigh. He looked one last time behind him at his sister. She was walking away in the direction of the camp with her head hung. Soren swallowed and without wasting another second, raced towards the Storm Spire.

* * *

_Slice! Argh! Slash! Grrr!_

Rayla’s eyes were slowly blinking open.

_Swish! Aaah! Clank! Thump!_

She rubbed them feeling the heaviness in her chest from her rude awakening. The noise… more slicing and cries kept coming. Each precise slice vehement, vicious and voracious and each irate cry furious, fierce and ferocious.

Rayla sat up and looked around. The first thing she noticed was the orange light peeling the night sky from over the horizon. The second thing she noticed was that she wasn’t the only one who woke up from the disturbance. Ezran yawned as he sat up with Bait and Zym and Callum laid on his back and sighed… perhaps his nice dream was interrupted.

“What’s that noise?” Callum said groggily pushing his messy hair away from his eyes.

“Where is Francis?” Rayla stood up, looking around alarmed in the direction of the noise.

It suddenly stopped… but Rayla could still hear the hushed heavy panting. Callum quickly started the campfire back up again, it was small and occasionally dwindled from the icy breeze.

“Francis?” Ezran called out, stepping away from the campfire’s light into the nightly darkness. Rayla and Callum followed him, looking uneasily at each other – something was wrong. Rayla overtook Ezran and even unsheathed her swords.

In the night she barely saw the dark figure of Francis, who stood with his hunched back towards them. He was breathing heavily, as his entire body was dripping in sweat and even his cape was completely drenched in it. As the campfire behind her began to glow a little brighter, she noticed how steam was coming off of Francis as the previously hard to pass-through bushes and shrubbery surrounding him were cut off perfectly straight at his hip height. He was dead silent, apart from his heavy breathing.

“Francis?” Rayla was afraid for some reason to say his name, but she braved through. “Are you okay?” She took a step closer to him… but quickly backed off. His head twisted to look at her over his shoulder… those eyes. They were small and sharp, piercing through her like daggers, as a pained grimace came and went on his face.

“It’s not good enough,” his usually silky velvety tenor voice was hoarse and stinging cold, as Rayla looked at him, afraid and confused. “It’s not good enough!” He raised his voice, as he closed his eyes, clenching his fists until they were bone white. “En garde.” He turned.

“What?” Rayla stepped away, taken aback.

“Fight me!” He screamed, jumping at her without waiting any further. She just barely blocked his swing. “Sloppy,” Francis commented, groaning at himself. Ezran was stunned, frozen to the spot.

“No, Francis, stop!” Callum shouted, but Francis wasn’t listening. He used his shoulder to push against Rayla’s chest as she fell backwards, but she was quickly able to roll away and flipped backwards to get some much needed distance.

“Too slow! Not good enough!” He shouted at himself, grunting with every single move.

The campfire roared to her left. She looked at it as she considered kicking it to aid her, as Francis rushed her again. Instead she immediately struck from above hoping to catch him off guard… but he had impeccable reactions. He blocked it… and suddenly screamed a painful cry, falling on his knees. His free hand immediately darted across to his right side, as he raised his sword to deflect her follow up attack… but Rayla didn’t advance. She looked into his pained eyes, as he groaned through his gritted teeth.

“Francis, are you hurt?” Ezran ran over to them, finally brought out of his stupor.

“Francis,” Rayla sheathed her swords. “What is wrong with your side?” It was a questioning that was on her mind for a while now.

Francis’s eyes suddenly turned remorseful, as he dropped his sword with a loud clank. “What am I doing?” He buried his face into his hands. “I’m so sorry for scaring all of you…”

“Francis, what’s wrong?” Rayla repeated. “You’ve been limping for almost a week now, what’s wrong with your right side?”

“It’s…” Francis exhaled heavily. “It’s really ugly…”

“Show it!” Rayla said forcefully.

Francis hung his head as he lifted his shirt and lowered his trousers. Callum and Ezran gasped and the animals whined, as Rayla covered her open mouth. Across the lower half of his torso and almost down to his knee, his entire right side was a completely blackened bruise, a haematoma that indicated that it was repeatedly hurt over and over again. His black outfit made the entire injury worse, as it looked like his bruise was oozing. His hip was the darkest spot on his entire right side.

“This looks horrible,” Ezran managed.

“Yeah, I noticed,” Francis said airily, sighing defeatedly. “But it only hurts a little,” he tried to sound light.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Callum stole the question that was on Rayla’s tongue.

“I didn’t think it would get this bad,” Francis admitted. “But then I didn’t think we would get in so much trouble over the past week. I just really wanted us to focus on the mission.” His eyes averted everyone’s gaze, as he quickly hid his horrific bruise.

“Francis, ever since we met, you told me that we are a team and that we need to be open with each other, because our choices and actions affect others.” Rayla said, as he ruefully closed his eyes. “You are not telling us something… something big,” she drove the point home. Francis didn’t move and stayed silent. “Francis, why did you hide this from us?” Rayla asked, trying her best not to sound accusatory. The corner of Francis’s mouth twitched. “Why are you so hellbent on the mission now?” Rayla saw Francis clench his fists again. The orange lines on his shirt flashed in the light of the campfire. “Why are you pushing yourself so much?”

“I’m afraid…” he finally burst. “I’m really, really afraid.” His breath was suddenly quick and ragged.

“Afraid of what?” Rayla asked.

“Everything,” he replied simply, drawing quick breaths. His friends looked at him helplessly and he sighed, knowing that this wasn’t enough… so he elucidated. “I’m afraid of losing you. I’m afraid of becoming something I don’t want to and join the annals of history in the group of one of the most tyrannical and horrible people. I’m afraid of failing, because if I fail at succeeding this mission then it will all be over.” The fiery orange campfire lit his face.

“We are already here, at the Storm Spire.” Callum reasoned compassionately. “We can’t fail; nothing bad can happen.”

“You don’t know that,” Francis hissed. “Nothing bad was supposed to happen on our journey ever, especially once we crossed into Eastern Xadia… and look how many times we nearly died and failed our quest.”

“Why are you saying like this is a be-all or end-all situation?” Callum asked. “You’re one of the most tenacious and headstrong people. There’s no way you won’t get or force another chance!”

“Because the last time I failed, it led me to here, the completely opposite direction of where my life was supposed to go.” Francis looked at the roaring pit of the campfire, his eyes reflecting its fiery orange light. “What if it happens again? Will it lead me back to darkness again? This is the best chance the world will ever get to try and mend our scars and try to coexist and we must take this opportunity with everything we have and execute it _perfectly_. What if I won’t be enough? What if I’m the only one who wants peace and coexistence?”

“Francis, we’ll deal with it once we return Zym to his mother.” Rayla said. “You always told us to take things one at a time. So let’s think about this later and just relax for a moment.”

“Those are my grandmother’s words,” Francis corrected. “She had to tell me that a lot.” He looked sadly at his friends, his demeanour muddied the atmosphere with dejection. “Being extremely talented or a genius is a cursing gift,” he lamented looking into the campfire, as if he could see his own reflection. “Not everyone gets to have that, so those who do get it are cursed to use it to serve others. They are forced to think beyond themselves and always consider the bigger picture. Without realising it, the others who aren’t as capable need you to use it because if we don’t, then that gift, that chance is wasted. Especially if those who don’t have it work harder than you and perform better.” Francis sighed, drawing his knees closer to his chest. “It is lonely to be at the top and I’m afraid of losing sight of those who weren’t as fortunate, those who helped me to get to the top, those who challenged me to constantly push beyond myself.”

“You’re trying to do a good thing, your intentions do matter!” Ezran encouraged.

“To people who you care about and visa-versa, yeah, but unfortunately that’s not what everyone sees or even willing to see. My actions, past or current, will always be with me.”

“Francis, you’re free from the past,” Callum recalled his stepfather’s words. “It doesn’t define who you are right now nor will it define your future!”

“Yes, it does Callum, to an extent.” Francis shook his head.

“You are able to choose what defines you and make decisions without looking back.” Callum insisted.

“That’s only when it comes to solely us, to what we personally want,” Francis argued. “But that’s not true when it comes to the eyes of others – we are forever bound by what we do. If you want to be seen as what we define ourselves by, then you need to constantly prove that and show it, otherwise you’re delusional; you’re kidding yourself.” A weak chuckle escaped Francis’s mouth as he shook his head again. “I could have had an easy path, live as an icon for humans, slaying elves and blissfully living my life in ignorance, but I didn’t. I chose the harder path, I chose to fail Tana’s trial and escape the destiny I didn’t want to be part of. Yet, no matter the thought I put behind, people will always remember the fact that I am the man who ran away.” Francis turned to Callum. “It’s up to you to decide whether you want your action to be defined as a result of saving me and Rayla, but you will always be reminded of the fact that you did Dark Magic. You will never escape that.” Callum looked pensively to the side, mulling over his words and recalling the incident with Sol Regem. “Let’s take Ezran for example,” Francis continued. “Ezran abdicated to prevent a bloodshed happening, saving so many people in the process. That is grace, that is kindness. Yet I guarantee you that some people will view him as a weak and unreliable king, because he said he will defend peace and yet he failed to do so at the first challenge.”

“Don’t you dare criticise my young brother like that!” Callum warned.

“Do you want me to lie? Sugar-coat it?” Francis challenged. “Ezran may be a kid, but he has already stepped into the shoes of how it feels to be an adult and a leader. As future king, he needs to know the consequences of his choices both good and bad. One of them is the fact that he defended his stance on Eastern Xadia… when you return to them as a king, they will remind you of the fact that you already broke your promise of defending peace! That you were able to be subdued by that threat, effectively giving up your agenda.” Callum crossed his arms at that, sulking at the candour of Francis’s words.

“Are you saying that I made a mistake?” Ezran asked, looking up at Francis.

“No, at least not yet,” Francis replied. “You were caught between a rock and a hard place. If I’m honest, even when you think that the right decision is obvious, it is never really so black and white; there’s always the other side of the coin. Your choice maybe will work out in the future and maybe at least some of the people will see that you cared about your subordinates in your decision, but you can’t be a pacifist and constantly avoid confrontation… it’s impossible, no matter how much you try. At some point, when words can’t do anything anymore, we have to stand up and defend ourselves or fight for what we believe in.”

“Maybe I should have considered it better,” Ezran sighed with his head hung.

“What you did was kind and selfless,” Francis reiterated, before Callum could speak. “Many would rather hide behind a numerous army than do something about the challenge presented. It’s not your fault that you didn’t consider every consequence of your abdication. You’re still young and growing and you will make plenty of mistakes. It’s just a shame that we are sometimes forced to make poorly informed decisions, that despite not defining us, others will label you with forever. Not nearly enough people are willing to dig deep to find out what actually happened and instead settle on what’s on the surface, because it’s easier and less time consuming. In fact they would take nearly anything at face value, as long as it serves their needs.”

“Not all of our choices should define us or affect other choices we make.” Callum said dryly.

“But it does and it doesn’t change the fact that you made those choices and you are responsible for that.” Francis replied, before pausing, submerging everyone in pensive silence. The corners of his mouth twitched again as he stared at the fire. “Sometimes we are affected by things outside of our control that can define us.” He suddenly continued. “Had I not told you anything about being altruistic, maybe you wouldn’t have done anything about saving us. The fact that I am willing to stand and fight for others and what’s right can rub off on other people. Rayla maybe wouldn’t have come back for me back at The Cursed Caldera otherwise. When things are taken out of my hands, like it happened with Sol Regem and Pyrrah, it is then that I get to see what impact I had on others and most of the time it is the most scary and nail biting experience ever, because I don’t know how you perceived my actions and words… if I’ve done enough or was good enough. In fact, I have no idea how some of the things we do will affect us or come back to haunt us. Will the fact that I threatened that Tristan guy come out in public? Will me and Callum be declared traitors for letting Pyrrah go?” Francis sighed, as his voice suddenly turned softer. “I just don’t want to fail any of you. I don’t want to lose any of you. If I fail then I won’t deserve to have you… you will have no reason to keep me around, you will turn me away, blaming me for the shortcomings. I will be alone again… and if I can’t do the simple act of helping others, of doing anything useful, then why would anyone need me… I will just disappear and die alone.”

“Francis,” Rayla grabbed his hand. “Don’t say such nonsense! How can we turn you away? Me and you are the warriors of the Team. We don’t abandon each other, we do things together.”

“You’ve done so much for us,” Callum placed a hand on his shoulder. “How can we ever disregard that? How ungrateful would that be?”

“You’ll have us, no matter what.” Ezran jumped into the hug. “We’ll stand by your side always, because I know you’ll stand by our side when we’ll need it most. We will share and go through everything together.”

“As much as you like doing it, don’t overthink it so much, especially ten steps ahead.” Rayla comforted him, looking at how the warm fire slowly burned the wood away. “We’ll tackle one problem at a time.”

“Thank you,” Francis said looking at all of them. His face was still lit up in the orange light of the campfire, but his expression and voice weren’t strained as much. “At least I have you, when I go through my challenges and doubts.” He said with a soft expression on his face. He looked up at the increasingly orange horizon and then looked at the towering Storm Spire. “We move on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marcos accidentally became MVP... and to think that only three weeks before that he could barely make his own section do their patrols of the forest properly. But hey, it kind of kick-started this whole thing in the first place.  
> Not-so-fun fact about Francis's injury. This is something that I actually experienced once. I play football and futsal as a goalkeeper, which is a very responsible task and requires a lot of bravery. Indoor areas are notorious for having hard surfaces. I fell badly on my side, but continued playing. It was further aggravated, by the fact that I had to dive on the same side multiple times during the game. As a result, what would have been a small purple bruise, turned into a massive black bruise that covered my hip. So every pain that Francis experienced and every pained reaction that escaped him from the moment he got injured in chapter 17, were all based on what I went through and felt. I guess the more you know. Morale of that story - be careful how you fall in sports and always immediately treat your injuries.  
> In the end, I just want to once again say thank you for reading this far. I hope you have enjoyed all of it just how I absolutely loved writing all of this. The epic finale is coming!


	23. Team Azymondias

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When a team faced a daunting challenge that tested their bonds, the only way to do it was to help each other and do it together, lest it broke them apart. The Storm Spire had big questions and challenges waiting for them at the top, that would test if Team Zym were truly a team. It was the final push and they faced the final challenges before a very big day.

With barely getting any more hours of sleep, Callum found it incredible that Francis sprung and darted around the camp, looking characteristically excited and sounding energetic. Where he found the batteries to keep going, Callum didn’t know. What Callum did know was that the Storm Spire before him, looked awfully tall.

“Don’t be intimidated by its height,” Francis said lightly, clearly noticing Callum eyeing it up. “It’s only the tallest structure in the whole of Xadia.” He playfully nudged Callum in his shoulders, as he quipped. “Look on the bright side, after completing this, climbing those stairs in Katolis will never challenge you ever again!” Gosh, he really just could move on quickly and act like he didn’t have a horrible time yesterday. He just got on with the task at hand, not showing a single sign of dismay. A leader had to put on a face for others, so that the team could remain confident. Whatever kept the Team moving forward, Callum guessed.

“I take it the Dragon Queen didn’t make her lair at a nice kind of halfway-up there kind of place?” Callum asked naively, as he looked up at the spiralling staircase that went with the Spire. The rocky structure went right through the clouds and it didn’t seem to be narrowing significantly.

“Nope. Tip-top!” Rayla responded.

“Why would it need the other half, if that was the case?” Francis correctly pointed out.

“Besides, where would the fun be in that?” Rayla suggested jocundly, though there was an undeniable tone of sarcasm in her voice.

“Things will definitely get fun once the air becomes thin, if it’s that high up.” Francis said earnestly. “I’m not sure what to do if that is the case.”

Callum shrugged his shoulders. “At least the view below us will be nice,” he remained optimistic… very optimistic, in fact.

“It’s cloudy, Callum,” Ezran pointed out… oh, yeah.

“Clouds could be nice to look at.” Callum defended.

“Well, then your head will be up in the clouds physically this time as well.” Rayla joked.

“Hey,” Callum scoffed lightly, although his grin was as wide as the rest of his friends’ were. He knew very well that his creative and artistic mind demanded to depart the real world every now and then.

Their light-hearted conversation was interrupted by Zym’s whining. He flew and cowered behind Ezran’s back. “Someone’s getting cold feet, I see,” Francis commented.

“Aw, Zym, don’t worry,” Ezran, who naturally became the designated person to deal with animals, was the first to respond and comfort the baby dragon. “You’re about to meet your mama!”

“And we should get going,” Francis spurred his friends on. “Ezran, you take the Shadowpaw and…”

“… and Francis, you take your Moonstrider.” Rayla cut in. For a moment, there was a small victorious smile that appeared on her face, as she managed to catch him off guard.

“Oh, uh,” Francis stared bashfully at her. “No, I’ll be…”

“You should go easy on yourself today… and for the next few days as well.” She insisted. “There is no need to break yourself over nothing, so just ride the Moonstrider.”

“We’ll be fine,” Callum added.

“Okay,” Francis replied, reluctantly mounting his Moonstrider. “But if any of you are getting tired, then don’t hesitate to ask.”

“We’ll manage, but don’t worry; we’ll ask.” Rayla said genuinely.

“Alright then,” Francis signalled with his hand. “Up we go.”

* * *

The ascent was long and laborious… and wouldn’t you know it, you couldn’t do much, but take another step up the stairs. There was not much to see in the clouds, anyway. So some time needed to be passed with light hearted conversation. Callum made sure him and Rayla were far enough behind Francis and Ezran to not be heard by them. Besides they seemed to be engaged in a conversation of their own… probably some intellectual curiosity and tutoring stuff.

“So, when we get up there, are we going to tell the Dragon Queen we’re a thing?” Callum asked innocently.

“Um, I don’t think that’s going to come up.” Rayla replied.

“Oh, I see. You’re saying we should hide it from her,” Callum played. “Kind of a secret, forbidden-romance situation?”

“Yes. Yes, that’s right,” Rayla turned to him dramatically placing a finger over his mouth. “The Dragon Queen must never know!”

“I understand,” Callum continued the silly dramatic notion. “I guess the world just isn’t ready for what we have.” They chuckled at that, as she lightly nudged him… well at least it was getting fun, until…

“Oi,” Francis called out, who surprisingly wasn’t on his Moonstrider anymore. “You two dorky lovebirds, stop flying on your wings of love and hurry up! You can flirt once we actually reach the top!”

“Well, I need to give her all the attention and care in the world because I’m her boyfriend.” Callum responded.

“And I’m her lover, now come on, let’s go.” Francis jabbed and unceremoniously hurried them.

“Oh, he got you there,” Rayla laughed at a flustered Callum. “But don’t worry, it’s not like he’s jealous because you managed to get a girlfriend before he has.” She said nonchalantly.

Francis’s pride was definitely hurt, as he squared right up to Rayla with a pointed finger, his mouth incredibly small. It startled both of them at first, but Francis didn’t say anything… despite clearly really wanting to hit back. In all honesty, there was not much he could do, as he shook his finger and glared with incredulous irritation in his eyes.

After silently telling everything he thought about this below the belt jab, he swatted at her nose as punishment and walked away without saying another word. She was unfazed by him assaulting her nose as she gave Callum a victorious and profoundly proudful smirk and glance. Callum returned with an amused expression, before they quickly hurried to catch up with the rest… they did manage to fall quite far behind. Eventually, they came up to Ezran and Francis who were standing in front of a gateway made out of stone. Its edges were engraved in sky blue lines.

“What’s heavier: a kilogram of steel or a kilogram of feathers?” Callum caught on the end of the Ezran’s question.

“The sarcasm that I’m about to unleash upon all of you.” Francis joked with Ezran and looked up carefully at the blue writing that crowned the gateway’s arch. “Huh, what a nice welcome notice!” He hummed when he saw that Callum and Rayla were here.

“This is elven writing,” Rayla said.

“You mean Ancient Draconic.” Francis remained pedantic.

“What does it say?” Callum wanted to get to the point.

“It says… ‘Prepare… to draw… your last breath’,” Rayla translated. The Team looked at each other in uneasy silence.

“Very hospitable warning, as I mentioned.” Francis chimed, breaking it.

“Are you dealing with your fear of heights any better?” Rayla asked with a friendly mocking tone.

“My apprehension of heights is fine,” Francis disapprovingly shook his head, as he continued in a light and animated manner. “Although they really should have put some safety barriers on the side or at the very least, that warning notice should have also said something like ‘Watch out for constant danger of falling’.” He peaked over at the drop beneath them. “Yep, can confirm, it’s a long way down… seems longer than the Cursed Caldera.” He gave a nervous smile.

“How surprising.” Rayla said sarcastically.

“It is getting really high up now… and the Spire doesn’t seem to be getting much narrower,” Francis mused, as he mounted his Moonstrider.

“Come on,” Ezran signalled. “Let’s keep going.”

* * *

So… about the thin air. Yeah, it was becoming a problem.

“How tall is this thing?” Callum asked through the chorus of panting, taking a breath between every single word.

“Maybe we should rest here… for a second?” Rayla kneeled, her body devoid of her usual athletic energy.

“Guys, we can’t stop here,” Ezran insisted firmly, even if he wasn’t doing much better himself. He made an odd decision early on to dismount his Shadowpaw for some reason. “We have to keep going.”

“Ezran’s right,” Francis supported him, who looked to have been doing the best out of all of them, but it was clear that the thin air was also getting to him. “If climbing mountains taught me anything, it’s that when you stop, it is almost impossible to get back up again. Push yourselves until it’s done, then we can rest.” He looked at Ezran, with an inquiring expression on his face. Callum didn’t hear them speak, but they seemed to understand each other, as Francis nodded and… dismounted. “Callum, Rayla, if you need help back there you can take our mounts, but they aren’t doing much better than us.”

“No,” Callum panted. “We… we’ll…”

“… be fine,” Rayla was there to finish the sentence for him.

The only member of the Team that didn’t seem to struggle at all was Zym. Callum found it a little too ironic that before the climb they were motivated and Zym was whimpering, but now all of them wanted to stop apart from Zym who was chirping and carelessly flying circles around everyone. With hunched shoulders and ever-growing heaviness in the knees, Team Azymondias trudged on.

Higher and higher, they climbed, they were almost breaking through the clouds… and the end was still not in sight. Were they even at the half way mark? The air was becoming thinner, so much so that the silence began to burden their lips, finding it incredibly difficult to talk coherently for very long… so much for light hearted conversations.

Callum began to hug the wall of the Storm Spire, finding it incredibly difficult to stand up straight. They made it to another large stony platform and he was ready to fall flat on his face. “The air…” he careened away from the wall. “… it’s so… thin.” He could barely breathe and now he couldn’t stand anymore as he began to feel himself falling.

He was expecting to hit the hard cold stony ground below him, but instead he surprisingly found himself landing in something nice and soft… or rather, being held up by someone’s soft but strong arms. He opened his eyes and looked to the side to find Rayla’s straining face, doing her best to keep him on his feet. “Thanks,” he said simply, before the both of them collapsed on the ground anyway.

“It’s too much,” she muttered, before Callum saw her pass out. Feeling like he didn’t have much longer left in him, he grabbed her hand.

“You and me together,” he whispered and his eyes closed.

* * *

“Ezran, wait!” Ezran heard Francis call out. He looked behind him and Francis signed something to him, before realising that Ezran didn’t fully understand sign language. “Look,” he nodded behind him instead. Ezran saw Rayla and Callum out cold on the floor.

“Zym, we can’t leave them here,” Ezran managed to finally say after a myriad of deep breaths. Zym however couldn’t understand. It seemed that thin air didn’t affect him at all, as the oblivious baby dragon continued to chirp and climb the stairs.

“Go… get Zym,” Francis said through his heavy panting. “I’ll stay… with them.”

Ezran tried to pick up the pace to catch up to the frolicking Zym, but it was getting almost arduous to simply drag his heels, let alone lift them. Ezran felt the Shadowpaw slump on the ground behind him; everyone was going down… but Ezran refused to give up so easily. He tried to use his hands to push off of the steps to climb further up, but it didn’t help him for long.

“Zym,” he cried, when he reached another wide platform. “I don’t think I can keep going,” but Ezran heard nothing back. “Zym!” He tried once more, before he collapsed on his front and followed the same fate as Callum and Rayla.

* * *

Francis slumped against the side of the Storm Spire’s wall, looking at his soundly sleeping friends. His Moonstrider also fell on its side, madly hyperventilating. Everything seemed to be going downhill… they were so close and yet they were unable to continue. Were they not enough? Were they doomed to fail? How would they even get out of this one? Could Francis do anything about it? A pair of orange eyes peered through the clouds opposite him, then they flashed and darted around the place, as if ridiculing him, mocking him, playing him, outnumbering him.

Francis groaned at himself and ravaged through his backpack. He took out his ‘Cultures and Traditions of Xadia’ book, hoping that maybe he could find something. He scanned restlessly over the words, sentences, paragraphs on the pages, flipping over every half a minute on the beat. Just as his eyes trotted over the pages, he could feel the orange eyes looking dubiously at the same pages over his shoulder. He ignored it. He had to find a solution. He couldn’t just sit here and do nothing.

He probably spent an hour or maybe two, skimming over the entire book… three times over. Nothing. Nothing! Absolutely nothing! If only he had a book about magic. So… what? Were they just stuck now? Ezran was still not back… and Zym was nowhere to be seen. He saw that the sun was already long past its zenith… maybe he spent longer than two hours searching. Why did that matter? He still had nothing! Ez and Zym hadn’t come back! This was getting really concerning. He had to relax, compose himself, since he was famous for not knowing how to give up.

 _Okay._ He looked at the couple in front of him. _Still asleep._ _I have to keep going. For them. For Team Zym._ “Ez?” He shouted.

Silence. He was still alone… with the pair of orange eyes staring expectantly at him. He was almost sure he could hear Tana’s voice echoing in the wind. He quickly brushed it away. There had to be something else he could do. Anything. Anything at all. He looked through his backpack again… and stumbled upon the object he was reading for some time now. His eyes glinted hope. Maybe the diary had an answer. There was potentially a lot of magic in it, after all.

* * *

Feeling his eyes being licked open, Ezran woke up to greet the smiling snout and eyes of Zym.

 _You’re up_ , he chirped.

“Zym, how long was I out?” Ezran rubbed his face, trying to not black out again.

 _You sleep long… got help_. He yipped glancing up and behind Ezran.

“Help?” Ez scratched his head.

 _Big help_. Zym jumped up.

Ezran looked at him, his brain still slow from the thinness of the air. He was however able to put two and two together, when the ground behind him shook and he felt his hair was being sniffed. Startled and panicked, Ezran grabbed Zym and crawled away from the dragon that landed. The red dragon was huge and had a pale yellow front. It lowered his head to sniff the terrified Ezran and totally not at all concerned Zym.

To say that Ezran was terrified was a completely criminal understatement – he was petrified. He stared into the red dragon’s blue eyes, thinking those eyes would be the last thing he ever saw. And then… those eyes suddenly looked familiar… but how could they? Ezran never saw or met a dragon… apart from one, not too long ago. Ezran’s eyes darted to the right side of the dragon’s head… one of the horns was missing!

“Pyrrah?” Ezran questioned. The dragon’s snout tilted. “Yeah… that was the name,” he remembered, a hopeful smile appeared on his face. “We’ve met… when you crashed. You’re okay now!”

Pyrrah lifted her head back up, raised her paw and placed it in front of Ezran into the stone. With her huge draconic nail, she drew a symbol… a wavy rune, with tree lines weaving around each other, forming curves. Ezran looked at it carefully, then back at Pyrrah, who was patiently waiting for him. It hit him.

“I understand,” Ezran panted and bowed his head in gratitude. Pyrrah bowed back and set off flying up towards the very top of the Spire. “That was very big help!” Ezran looked ecstatically at Zym. He really wanted to rest a little bit longer, his body finding it difficult to move very much… but he had to get this to Callum as quickly as possible, since it was already getting late in the afternoon.

Ezran began crawling down the stairs, trying his best not to tumble down. He shouldn’t have made it too much further than where he left Francis and the rest, so Ezran made the effort to get on his feet. He finally got sight of Rayla and Callum still lying on the ground exactly how he left them… were they holding hands?

“You’ve been gone a while,” Francis was awake at least. “That loud trembling was your doing, right?” Ezran nodded. “What took you so long?” Francis asked, but then answered it himself. “You went unconscious, didn’t you?” Ezran didn’t reply, as he quickly got to the pair and started shaking Callum. His eyes began to blink.

“Guys! Wake up! You have got to wake up!” Ezran shook Callum a bit longer, before he reluctantly sat up. “I know how to fix everything,” he said as he got Callum’s sketchbook and opened it somewhere in the middle. He began to draw the rune that Pyrrah showed him. “The gateway wasn’t a warning. It was the solution!”

“What? What are you talking about?” Callum asked.

“To make it all the way up, you have to draw your Last Breath,” Ezran explained, as he showed Callum what he drew. “It’s a rune, Callum!” Ezran paused to let Callum memorise it.

“Ah, so it was a friendly hospitable notice after all,” Francis mused.

“And the trigger words are _Ventus Spiralis_.” Ezran said after catching his breath.

“How do you know all of this?” Callum asked, getting on his knees.

“I met an old friend,” Ezran smiled knowingly.

“I heard our old friend make a big and loud entrance,” Francis pointed out… and he wasn’t wrong.

All eyes were on Callum now, who carefully looked at the drawing of the rune one more time and then drew the said rune in the air. The rune glowed a light blue and Ezran could see that within the confines of the rune, gusts of air motioned. The precious air they so desperately needed now. Callum gathered his breath before finally…

“ _Ventus Spiralis!_ ” The air escaped its confines and rushed forcefully into everyone’s mouths and noses, making everyone inhale deeply and even pushing Callum backwards a little bit.

“Sweet oxygen,” Francis proclaimed. “Oh, I had no idea how much I was missing you.” He did an air kiss.

The boys’ reaction wasn’t quite as dramatic, as they just looked happily at each other respiring rapidly, glad to have made through this… but not everyone was celebrating. Rayla still hadn’t moved… and Callum was first to react.

“Rayla, wake up!” He hurriedly crawled over to her, helping her to sit up. “Come on!” He said, as Rayla began to cough. “We’re going to be okay.” He told her, as he helped her cough it all out. 

Everyone was going to be okay and Ezran relaxed for a little bit… until he tensed up in surprise. He saw Rayla and Callum lean in for a kiss and then stare at each other in utter bliss.

“Uh oh,” Ezran heard Francis sitting up behind him. He held his hands in front of him and tapped his fingers against each other, as he leant forward.

“Hey, that’s not part of the spell,” Ezran said. Frankly, he was so stunned that his jaw might as well have fallen completely off his skull. The pair stared at him with wide eyes, completely frozen. Francis burst out laughing, but he was more laughing at Ezran’s innocence.

“Oh, Ezran, promise to me you’ll never grow up,” he said.

“Is that a trick question?” Ezran looked at Francis who didn’t reply. “I promise?” He said hesitantly.

“Ez, what did I say about making promises you can’t keep? It was a rhetorical statement.” Francis got up and playfully scratched Ezran’s head, who needed to learn what a rhetorical statement was. Francis then looked at Callum and Rayla with a huge grin on his face. “The cat’s out of the bag now. Told you I’d win that bet, Rayla.”

“Why did they kiss?” Ezran was still a little behind, including in his years.

Rayla quickly hid her face behind her hand looking away in embarrassment. Callum took the initiative to explain, as he scratched the back of his head. “Uh, yeah! So, you were gone for a while and now, uh… this is a thing.” He pointed at himself and Rayla, a shining smile spread across his face.

“What?” Ezran looked at the both of them confused.

 _They like each other,_ Bait’s jaw dropped. _They are in a relationship!_

“Whaaaaa…” Ezran elongated. He finally got it, as his jaw also dropped and mirrored Bait’s.

“Yeah,” Francis placed a hand on Ezran’s shoulder. “Also I’ve won the bet.”

“I mean… wow… I’m so happy for you,” Ezran chimed, finally breaking through his stun.

“I’m glad that you care a lot about me winning that bet.” Francis joked.

“No, really,” Ezran said. “I thought after Claudia, Callum would be completely useless at getting a girl.”

“Ezran!” Callum and Rayla both exclaimed.

“You really should have been here to see the development,” Francis lamented underneath their unimpressed glares. “Now come on, it’s going to be sunset soon. We need to get back on track!”

* * *

Tonight, the shine of the moon was mostly obscured by a rare cloud, but at least the part that wasn’t, lit the stairs well enough. Rayla looked up, seeing the top of the Spire coming closer and closer. They were nearing the end of their quest… _this_ quest, she preferred, as she already looked to brighter times ahead. She felt lighter with each and every step she took… or at least, that was how she should have been feeling. Something held her back, something dampened it… she wasn’t sure what… and maybe she was just imagining it. She decided to focus on firstly getting this done, before anything else.

She noticed how the stars were shining brightly over them, how close they were to them. Maybe if Callum wasn’t too tired, they would get some time to themselves and get to look at those stars, reciting some more Garlath as well. She fondly smiled at the memory, finding Callum’s reactions hilarious and whatever names he used for the constellations, bizarre. She was so engrossed by their early romantic stages and so excited to do it again, that she hadn’t even noticed how they reached the end of the climb.

“We’re here.” Francis said standing before a rope bridge that led to the main entrance of the Dragon Queen’s residence.

“I can’t believe we made it!” Callum exclaimed.

“Me neither,” Rayla held Callum’s hand, who looked like a huge weight was lifted off his shoulders. After all this time, they were finally here!

“Took about three weeks and a few setbacks, but you better believe it!” Francis insisted. In truth, all kinds of setbacks and challenges infested them so much, that it really wouldn’t be surprising if the bridge suddenly collapsed. At least with Francis’s shining optimism, it looked like the world would be merciful to them this time. “I always remained faithful we would pull it off one way or the other.” He set off with huge strides not even waiting for anyone, when he finished his sentence.

The rest quickly followed suit, trying their best to keep up with the sudden outburst of pace. As they were making their way across the bridge, a figure appeared on the other side. He was holing a staff that was taller than him and had a small metallic wing on the end that gave off sky blue light. When they got closer, they saw that he was a Skywing elf. Unlike Nyx, he didn’t have wings on his back. He had dark grey skin and pure white short hair that stayed puffed and swept to the side. He wore a black top with white shoulder pads and belt. Off of the belt came wide strands that weren’t connected to each other, resembling some form of kilt. They went from black to a light green on the ends and were longer at the back than the front, with the rear strands going almost all the way down to his ankles. His white trousers were tucked into his equally clean white boots. The sleeveless black top revealed his lean but sturdy arms, where his skin tone got lighter the closer it got to his hands. What was interesting about those arms were the white runes that were painted on them. What was also interesting was that him and Francis both stared at each other, with their heads leaned forwards and their eyes incredibly narrowed.

“Bird Boy?” Francis finally uttered.

“Oh no, please don’t call me that in front of them.” The elf replied.

“That’s the Bird Boy?” Ezran asked with a glow on his face.

“Too late, I already told them the story.” Francis went towards him with open arms and embraced him in a tight hug.

“Why did you tell them about that bet?” The elf’s voice was calm and soothing, but the tone clearly signalled displeasure. And while his face was rather unreadable, his light blue eyes gave away the clear warmth he was experiencing at the reunion, as he hugged him back with equal softness. It was a heart-warming occasion to observe.

“Because it’s a great, dramatic and funny story that deserves an epic.” Francis lightly slapped him on the back. “Oh, Ibis, it has been a year and a half, hasn’t it? Truth be told, I immediately missed you the first instance I needed to climb a mountain.” He laughed.

“You just want an excuse to fly on my wings again,” Ibis lightly pushed him away. “You were too heavy then and you are too heavy now.”

“You still managed to fly,” Francis pointed out with a grin. “Anyways, how come you are here? Did your dream of being the liaison between dragons and elves work out?”

“Yes, it has.” Ibis said with a straighter back.

“Well, we’ve got a big surprise for you.” Francis turned and motioned him to look at the rest of his Team. A sunny smile flashed as his entire face softly mirrored his Team’s expressions. “Rayla, you do the honours.”

“We’ve brought him home!” Rayla proclaimed, gesturing to the subject of her announcement. “Azymondias, the Dragon Prince!” She did a quick bow.

“He’s here to see his mother.” Ezran added.

“And Francis needs some ointment to heal his heavily bruised side.” Callum added.

“Let’s not worry about that yet, I don’t need…” Francis tried to brush over.

“Yes you do!” The trio exclaimed in unison and glared at Francis, so that he would stop resisting, before looking excitedly back at Ibis.

“It makes my heart leap to see that he lives,” he said placing a hand on his heart, but it soon fell to the side as he sighed. “But you’re too late.”

“Late?” Francis’s smile ran away in an instant. The orange flashed on his shirt, as the hand that was around Ibis’s shoulder shot back. “No… how? It can’t be?! Is she…”

“She’s not dead,” Ibis calmed him down. “She has not opened her eyes in ten days.” Ibis could feel the confusion on everyone’s eyes. Understandably, it was easier to show, so he lead them into the Spire’s residence. “She lives and breathes but… she’s not with us,” he sighed.

Rayla and the rest found themselves in an open room, designed to be the main hall, with such towering ceilings that made the inhabitants of the room look miniscule. The draft in the hall was created by a hole high above them that was probably used by the dragons, since fitting in the entrance could be a problem for them. What made Rayla feel more uneasy was how empty the hall was. There was a tiny round table off to the side and two statues of dragons guarding the entrance to the Dragon Queen’s chambers. Everything felt abandoned, forgotten about… a cold, howling, mind-numbing emptiness. She remembered how a long time ago she wanted to be here, just like her… mom and dad.

“It is incredibly rude of us,” Francis caught himself, catching off-guard the rest of them. “We should have introduced ourselves. This is Ibis, he’s a Sky Mage.” Francis quickly went through the rest of the Team’s names.

“Nice to meet you,” Ibis was polite. “I’ve been here for weeks now. I came here as soon as I heard that Queen Zubeia was ill, hoping my magic could help her. Losing her mate and an egg had irreparably broken her heart. She had finally closed her eyes and has not opened them since.”

“When will she open her eyes?” Rayla asked.

“I don’t know,” Ibis replied with a heavy sigh.

“Will she?” Francis asked warily. Ibis remained silent at that.

Rayla’s happiness at coming so far waned quicker and quicker, slowly replaced by pain and despair. Did their entire journey not matter in the end? Would the Dragon Queen never get to see the gesture and thus rendering their efforts pointless? Rayla had defied everyone and everything… and for what? So that she could fail… just like her parents? She already was seen as someone who ran away just like her parents… even if it was for a good reason. She was already ghosted by her village just like her parents. This would just be the final nail in the coffin…

A soft low tremble lightly shook the ground beneath them, as a sound of someone who was undeniably faintly snoring through the nose, escaped from the chambers. It was a little startling at first, but eventually everyone got used to it. Just before they entered the chambers, Zym got cold feet again, as he whined and backed away from the entrance, lowering himself close to the ground to the point of nearly hugging it.

“Don’t worry, Zym,” Ezran tried to comfort him. “She’s your mother. Don’t you want to see her?” Zym jumped into Ezran’s arms, looking like he didn’t want to be separated at all, as he whined and whimpered. “I understand, you’re not ready yet.” Ezran supported him, letting him get down to the ground. “We’ll go in first. I’ll be right back.” He continued, as he stood back up and turned to the entrance… though Zym wasn’t left alone. Bait remained by his side, planting himself beside Zym’s shoulder, looking supportively at him.

Things couldn’t keep getting sadder and worse, as Rayla entered the chamber with her arms crossed. The black scaled dragon was frozen in her slumber, her eyes closed to the painful reality and absences in her life… and yet in remaining blind and closed off from everyone, she was missing the reality that her son was alive and that he was here, in the room opposite her. The Dragon Queen was sleeping on a flowerbed, with a painfully obvious empty space beside her. The plants and flowers around the edge were already dead, as they encircled and already began closing in on Queen Zubeia. Behind her curled tail, there was a far smaller flowerbed that had the youngest and brightest flowers in the entire chamber… for the past four and a half months that one was reserved for Zym, but it was vacant and empty all this time.

Rayla watched Ezran slowly and timidly approach the great Archdragon. His hand hovered over her nose, before his fingertips connected to it. Slowly he eased his hand and then his head onto it.

“I don’t hear anything,” Ezran said gravely. “Wake up, your baby is here. You have to wake up,” he tried. Only her deep breathing replied. “There is nothing… silence.” He said with a hung head.

Rayla couldn’t take it any longer. The reminder was too painful, it was too much. She turned and sprinted out of the chambers as quickly as she could. She had to get away. She came upon Bait and Zym, who were still lying where they left them. She sat right beside them, one hand clutching her Moon Opal around her neck and the other apologetically scratching Zym’s mane. Her parents were at fault for what happened here four and a half months ago and she held herself responsible for them in front of Zym. None of this would’ve happened if her parents weren’t cowards and didn’t run away. As she expected, she wouldn’t be left alone for too long. She could hear Callum’s footsteps approach her and then he silently sat behind her, a wordless question hovering on his lips.

“This is where it happened,” Rayla went on to explain. “Where my parents ran away. I can’t stop thinking about that moment. How it lead to all of this,” she hung her head, crossing her hands on her knees. “Being here… it hurts.” She didn’t notice how her hands were shaking until Callum’s hand held hers. She immediately felt a little at ease, knowing that he was here and that she wasn’t facing this entirely alone. It didn’t hurt any less, but with Callum by her side throughout the night, she could remain strong and get through this.

* * *

The morning sun was trying to shine through the clouds above Soren. He was trying his best not to fall off his horse, yelping every single time he almost did and opening his startled eyes back up. The sweat that rained from his forehead down his face, made his eyelashes stick to his eyelids. His whole chin and jaw felt itchy from his stubble, so it helped a little to keep him awake… although he couldn’t stop his sleepiness from making him lean forward every once in a while. The galloping rhythm of his horse was just too lulling and soothing.

Only once he got up close, he finally realised he made it to his destination – the Storm Spire. The pace he set for his horse and the fact that he didn’t stop for the entire night, helped him shave off an entire day of travelling… a day. A day! They only had one day to prepare!

“Thanks for getting me this far, buddy,” he dismounted his horse and took the reins off of it. “You’re free now! Start a new life for yourself here in Xadia… or Eastern Xadia as a certain someone would correct me right about now.” He patted the horse’s head. “Maybe you’ll meet a nice, uh, unicorn, eh?” He chuckled and slapped the horse’s rear, sending it away. He looked at the Spire and stretched a little. “All right, mountain. Ow,” he felt his ribs whine a little, but he played it off. “Prepare to be dominated!” There was determination in his eyes, as he sprinted up the stairs.

When he reached the clouds, he suddenly noticed how much he was panting, totally forgetting the fact that he stopped running.

“Come on, Soren!” He encouraged himself, feeling his shoulders become heavier and heavier. “What were all those workouts for?” He took a moment to catch his breath. “You can do this! Oh…” he fell on his fours with a groan. “Maybe… I should have taken… my armour off.” Soren grumbled through his panting, feeling like he already made that comment before. He grunted as he dragged himself up a few more steps, before giving up entirely.

What he found really ironic was that he wasn’t just unable to climb the seemingly measly steps any longer, but that the world was still finding a way to make it worse for him. He laughed weakly at the red dragon with pale yellow front that landed ahead, looking down at him.

“You,” Soren muttered apprehensively. “Come to finish me off?” The dragon growled at him. It looked to have the intentions to do just that.

“Soren? Is that you?”

He couldn’t quite believe his ears, as he looked up at the dragon with the last of his quickly departing energy. He didn’t just hear the dragon say it, did he? If it wasn’t the dragon, then who said it? And why did it sound so high pitched, as if it was a child’s? He was gasping too much to utter a single word and the last thing he remembered seeing was the dragon lowering its head to reveal the person on his back. Ezran?

* * *

“Callum! Francis! Rayla! We need your help!” Ezran shouted at the entrance from Pyrrah’s back, as she dropped the gasping and not fully conscious Soren on the ground. All three of them ran out, with Francis limping a little behind them. The healing ointment he was given was doing some work, but it was never going to heal it overnight.

“This guy?” Rayla uttered when she saw Soren.

“What is he doing here?” Callum asked with genuine curiosity.

“Help him, already!” Francis and Ezran both said firmly.

“Oh, right. Breathing.” Callum cracked his knuckles and quickly did the spell. The air rushed into Soren’s face as he inhaled it deeply, like that was all he would get. As he quickly got on his feet, he realised that he was actually getting a lot of air all at once and he had to cover his face, when the force of it was beginning to get too much for him. When the spell was complete, he looked around in confusion, since this wasn’t where he originally passed out.

“Is this… the afterlife?” He asked, his breath was still a little quick.

“No, it’s still just… the life… still…” Callum said, as Rayla rolled her eyes at Callum’s long winded explanation. “You’re alive.” Callum finally said it. He probably should have just started with that.

“What are you doing here?” Rayla glared at Soren, completely displeased at his presence.

“Hold on,” he placed his hands on his knees. “Give me… give me a second to catch my breath.” He exhaled and inhaled a few more times, before turning to them with an upbeat expression on his face. “Okay,” his expression immediately fell. “We’re all doomed.” The Team stared back at him, not even blinking as a beat passed over.

“Good morning to you too,” Francis broke the heavy silence.

* * *

“It’s my dad,” Soren said downcast, after he sipped on his warm drink. Ibis and Team Zym surrounded the round table at the entrance, regarding Soren with careful eyes.

“Lord Viren? He’s here in Eastern Xadia?” Callum asked.

“He has rallied the armies of four kingdoms and it’s not just that,” Soren continued. “We went to… the Sun elf place…”

“Lux Aurea.” Francis helped him, as was expected.

“Right, Lux Aurea,” Soren clicked his fingers. “My dad stole some kind of horrible power and he used it to transform his armies into something,” he paused looking for a word. “Something else,” he settled for.

“What is that ‘something else’ specifically?” Francis asked snappily.

“They’re stronger, angrier, big… claws!” Soren motioned his hands likewise.

“Viren made monsters out of a human army?” Ezran asked looking very concerned and confused at the same time.

“He’s made an army of darkness and he’s leading them here… for him.” Soren nodded at Zym. The Team and Ibis exchanged concerned looks.

“How many of you were there?” Francis asked hanging his head and sighing. In reality it was a fairly redundant question. There were only six of them: three warriors (Francis and Soren were semi-injured), two mages (Callum only knew three spells) and one child. They were pitted against combined armies of four kingdoms, who also had two dark mages… and that was not mentioning the whole ‘something else’ factor.

“I don’t…” Soren began, but he was cut off by Francis slamming his fist into the table, making everyone jump.

“We just don’t ever get a break!” He raised his voice. “There is always something else, some catch to everything! This is getting really annoying,” he grabbed the table by its edges looking off into the distance, biting his lip in concentration. The table surface reflected the orange lines in his shirt into his face.

“I did use the word ‘doomed’.” Soren pointed out, which was poor timing. No one even smirked.

“Please stay silent, I’m thinking.” Francis told them. His palm held his jaw and chin, as he began thinking out loud with a distant expression in his eyes. “At least the path up the Spire is narrow, we could hold them off that way.” He scratched the bridge of his nose.

“You want to fight them?!” Soren exclaimed. “Are you crazy?”

“Yes!” Callum, Ezran and Rayla all replied automatically.

“Actually, not exactly…” Francis said looking at the rest of them momentarily, before immediately looking back at the same unfocused spot in the distance. “I’m just getting desperate… sorry.”

“I get it, you came so far and you want to help… make a difference.” Soren sighed. “For the longest time, I thought that you did all of that because you wanted to show off, because you were selfish and better than the rest of us. I can clearly see now that I was… wrong.” Everyone suddenly was looking at him. “You’re a good person… and I want to say… thank you, for saving me back at the forest.”

Francis stared at him, his expression unreadable. “I wasn’t the one who saved you,” he replied, modestly as ever. “It was Zym and Ezran appearing at the right moment.”

“But you stood up for me in front of that dragon after seeing what it did to me.” Soren argued.

“Speaking of which, how did you recover from that?” Francis asked.

“Claudia did something, look that’s not important.” Soren quickly brushed off. “The point is, I probably would have been dead if you didn’t show up on time, if you didn’t come back… despite everything that happened between us.”

“I was just doing what any decent person would. In all honesty, I have no idea if I was going to end up fighting Pyrrah.” Francis admitted.

“Wait,” Rayla intervened. “You were going to attack Pyrrah? After we freed her?”

“No, I was warning her that even if she attacked me, I will stand and defend Soren to the end.” Francis explained.

“You were going to kill Pyrrah?” Rayla continued, looking like ire was slowly coming up in her voice.

“No! You know how precious I consider life to be. I haven’t killed anyone and I wasn’t planning to.” Francis insisted. “Look, can we focus on the more present issues?”

“What is there to focus on?” Ezran asked.

Everyone looked at Francis expecting him to say something. His arms were crossed, as he pensively and intensely stared into the distance. “I need to be left alone,” he announced walking away from the table. “I need time to think everything through.” Everyone looked at him as he sat way into the corner underneath a dark shadow, seemingly sinking into the background.

The rest of them looked at each other, lost, until eventually one by one everyone dispersed.

* * *

Callum saw his opportunity walk out of the door – Ibis, a fellow Sky Mage. If impending doom was upon them, then he should at least get to know as many spells that could help them in a fight as he could. Callum ran after him, catching him on the stairs that led further up the Spire.

“Ibis! Where are you going?” Callum asked.

“To the pinnacle,” he pointed up… like a pinnacle could be at the bottom. “I must see how long we have until this army of darkness is upon us… but since Lux Aurea is only two days of travelling away, they are most likely going to be here tomorrow.”

“How are you going to find that out?” Callum asked intrigued.

“I’ll scout from the sky.” Ibis explained simply before advancing up the stairs.

“Oh good,” Callum said. “How exactly are you going to do that? You don’t have wings.” Callum felt wrong saying the last bit. He didn’t realise how it could sound until he said it out loud. Damn his irreparable impulsivity! He began to stumble, speaking quicker than usual as he felt really hot around his face. “Sorry, is that rude? Is it… It’s just… we met another Skywing elf and she had wings… so I thought you all had wings?” He awkwardly scratched the back of his head, his other hand fiddling with the strap to his sketchbook. “Sorry.”

“Do not worry,” Callum to his relief, heard Ibis laugh. “My ego is unharmed.” He exhaled, before going on to explain. “Skywing elves are all born with a connection to the Sky,” he paused as he cleared the last step. “However fewer than one in ten of us are born with wings. Of the rest of us, only a rare few can learn to do this.” He stretched out his arms and after taking a deep breath, chanted the spell. “ _Manus. Pluma. Volantus_.” After each word a specific rune lit up on his arms, until all three of them glowed a light blue on both of his hands. Callum watched in awe as he saw black feathers quickly grow and cover his arms. “Mage wings!” He proclaimed, spreading his black wings to the side. They looked so grand, strong and majestic as they spanned an impressive width across the pinnacle.

“That’s amazing!” Callum exclaimed. “You have got to teach me how to do that!”

“Teach you?” Ibis chuckled, his wings trying their best to cover a scornful smile. Callum was obviously not left impressed. “My apologies, but a human cannot…”

“ _Fulminis!_ ” Callum exclaimed after rapidly and unceremoniously drawing a rune, sending lightning out of his hand into the vast and empty sky. He would remember the astounded look on Ibis’s face forever. “Look, I’ve heard it all before. That humans can’t do magic, that it’s not my destiny, but I know the Sky Arcanum. With that army coming here, I’m going to need to learn all the magic I possibly can, so please… teach me.” Callum begged.

“To learn an Arcanum as a human,” Ibis mused, not really looking at Callum. “Such a thing is unheard of.” He paused, before finally looking back at Callum. “I can’t teach you any spell overnight,” he dismissively shook his head. “Learning complex spells takes time and since it all comes from within, the only way to speed it up is to know what emotion or feeling is associated with the specific spell. Any emotional outburst will do that for you, since it has been known that magic becomes stronger but more chaotic during it, but there is no controlled way to test that apart from a real situation, which could be extremely dangerous.” Ibis paused and Callum felt a little dismayed at that. He really thought he could help and he really wanted to learn more magic from a proper mage. Ibis looked carefully into his eyes, perhaps reading what Callum was feeling. “Instead I will offer you some helpful advice,” he said and Callum’s chest lifted. “Leave.”

“What?” Callum felt like lightning struck him right there and then.

“I know that Francis is most likely going to stay, because he wants to create a bright coexisting future between humans and elves and thus he will try to prevent the humans from killing the Dragon Queen and Prince,” Ibis said. “But that is _his_ agenda and it will never come to life, if the Dragon Prince dies. So take him and run, hide, survive.”

“But we came all this way!” Callum argued. “And how can we leave anyone behind?”

“Don’t throw away your lives in here!” Ibis insisted. “And if someone stays behind: what’s more important the mission or that one person?”

“Neither!” Callum argued. “If being on this journey has taught me anything is that both the mission and people are equally important!”

“Leave!” Ibis reiterated firmly. “While you still can.”

Callum watched him jump off the edge and sore away across the empty sky. He soon disappeared into the clouds way beneath the pinnacle, leaving Callum staring down at the daunting drop.

* * *

Callum found Rayla back at the entrance of the hall, using whetstone to sharpen her swords. She heard him come in.

“Well? Did you get him to teach you any neat sky spells?” Rayla got up and began to animate and gesticulate the spells she announced wildly. “Tornado punch! Lightning lash! Storm sneeze!”

“No,” Callum chuckled and maybe he would have been snorting like an idiot… if only. “But he did have something to say,” he took a deep breath. This wasn’t going to give Rayla any pleasant feelings, considering what she went through yesterday. “He says we should leave.”

“Leave?” Rayla asked in disbelief.

“He might be right… I don’t know,” Callum shook his head, “I mean so far every choice we made was to keep Zym safe… so, maybe leaving is the right thing to do.”

“Yes,” Rayla crossed her arms and turned her back on Callum, looking into the Dragon Queen’s chambers. “I agree.” It felt like a genuine agreement… yet something clearly felt off about it.

“Okay, I’ll tell Ezran and Soren and discuss this with Francis.” Callum said hesitantly.

“But… I’m not going with you,” Rayla said over her shoulder.

“What?”

“You, Francis and Ezran should take Zym, but I can’t leave. All of this happened because my parents ran away, so I have to stay and defend the Dragon Queen.”

“But you can’t face an entire army by yourself,” Callum thought she was losing her mind. He came close to her, getting hold of her shoulders. “You’ll…” he couldn’t finish the sentence. The simple thought of the word made him feel like a black void was forming inside him.

“Die?” Rayla finished it for him, making Callum’s head recoil backwards at hearing her say it, especially so calm and accepting… he heard that accepting tone before. He could feel a tear threaten to escape his eyes, but they stayed dry, as he held it together for now. “Probably,” she continued. “But if I die, I’ll just be paying the price my parents should have paid a long time ago,” Rayla pushed herself away from him, so that she could remove the Moon Opal. “Just… remember me, okay?” She put the Moon Opal on Callum’s neck. Her lowered ears and her eyes clearly showed Callum that this wasn’t any easier for her. Her hand cupped his face as she leaned in. “Goodbye, Callum.” She kissed him.

It was a fleeting quick kiss, one that Callum could barely feel at all. It was full of sorrow… and yet somehow still sweet… bittersweet. He wanted to hold onto that moment, but she didn’t linger unlike him. She hugged him tightly, as she leant on him. He wanted to hold onto her and never let go. He wanted everything to just stop. This was so unfair! Why was the fate so cruel that after just getting to be together it had to separate them so soon?

When she broke the hug and began to walk away from him, anger suddenly started seeping through to Callum: at her acceptance, at the world, at his inability to do anything, at everything! He already lost someone so close to him that accepted his fate and he knew how much that hurt him. He couldn’t let history repeat itself!

“Really? So that’s it? Just… goodbye?” Callum turned around to look at the back of her head, where her eyes would be. She was frozen still and her body tensed. “You’re going to stay here and die out of pride?”

“It’s not pride, Callum!” She retorted. “It’s more than that; it goes deeper!”

“Oh, do you have a nicer word for it? Honour? Redemption? It’s just pride!”

“Please, Callum, this is about who I am,” Rayla was almost begging.

“Don’t let your parents’ mistakes drag you down. I know you feel guilty, but you’re not thinking straight! Rayla, you have to let it go!”

“If you think I can just let it go, then you don’t know me at all…” tears started to escape Rayla’s eyes down her hurt expression. “… you never did.” She turned and ran out as quickly as she could, wiping the tears away from her face.

Callum was left there, simmering in his anger. He slumped against the wall, clenching his fists up against his knees. He scowled and cursed at himself for being an idiot. Even if he had a point, why did he shoot her down so harshly? He was so angry. Why didn’t he just calmly offer her a different point of view? He was adamant on making her leave with them, rather than staying and facing certain death. She made up her mind, despite how difficult it was for her to make such a decision. He knew how headstrong she was, so why didn’t he just support her? Because he didn’t want to see another person he loved die… loved? Did he actually just say the word ‘loved’ in his head? Did he love her? Did he?

He was too hurt to fully comprehend the word ‘love’, as he felt heavy eyes peeling into his soul. He looked up to barely see the outline of Francis, coldly staring from his shadowy corner. Yeah, he was supposed to have been left alone to try and figure some death defying masterplan and they just caused a scene in front of him. At least now he knew what Ibis told him. He looked helplessly and sorry at him. Francis’s eyes told him everything he needed to know: _your girlfriend; your problem; you need to sort this out._ Callum sighed and nodded, he was right.

Callum sat for a while, mulling over what to do, until he noticed that something white was glowing out of his bag beside him. Callum dug his hands into it and took out the Key of Aaravos. The Moon rune was glowing, the closer it got to the Moon Opal. It had some form of Moon Magic in it. Callum suddenly remembered his talk with Lujanne. He remembered the rune she drew and the words she said… could he do the same? Should he do the same?

Callum stared at the Moon Opal he clutched at his hand, his heart split. It was Rayla’s ‘parting’ gift, he had to cherish it. Yet something didn’t make sense in his head: if the egg was perceived to be so dangerous, why didn’t Viren destroy it when he got here? If every Dragonguard ran away and no one was in his way, then clearly there was no one to stop him from destroying it. It just didn’t add up. He should find out what really happened… but at the expense of what could be Rayla’s last gift? What if it would be for nothing?

“Hey Callum,” Francis suddenly called out, making Callum jump, before signing. “ _It’s okay. It’s a normal thing to do, that is partially why they are made_.” He smiled for the first time in a while. “ _Her bravery and selflessness had to have come from somewhere_.”

Feeling encouraged by that, Callum gratefully nodded and went into the Dragon Queen’s chambers. He snapped the Moon Opal in his hands, feeling the Moon magic pulsate into his hand. “ _Historia Viventem!_ ” He traced the rune and firmly pronounced the incantation. He observed meticulously as luminous figures in nightly shade of blue appeared.

* * *

Rayla sat at the pinnacle with her legs over the edge, watching the orange sun slowly sink to hide behind the horizon. The light was slowly dimming down, as the tears dried away from her face. The wind made it very obvious to her where her tears trickled down… down and falling on the stone cold ground and on her garments. She wished that this didn’t hurt so much: the memories, the decision, Callum’s outburst… why couldn’t he just understand and accept where she was coming from?

“I know what happened,” his voice made her freeze in panic, as if he appeared simply because she thought of him. She hurriedly wiped away any traces of tears on her face.

“Callum, I don’t want to talk about this. I won’t change my mind.”

“No, no, no,” he said quickly, as he sat beside her, opening his sketchbook. “I did a spell to see what happened back then, when Viren took the egg.”

Rayla stared at him. She knew he used her Moon Opal. How he figured one of its uses out, she had no idea, but she commended his cleverness. Although she didn’t understand why he did it exactly, they all knew how the story ended and perhaps she considered it naïve to think about it in any other way… but she certainly appreciated him going above and beyond. In fact, Callum went as far as to draw what he saw.

“What are their names?” He asked, showing the first drawing and at first Rayla didn’t understand, until her eyes fell on the page.

“Tiadrin and Lain.” She said, her mouth remaining slightly open. Her hands gently reached out to the page, wanting to touch her parents that were drawn on it. They looked so alive, so real, making Rayla forget about the painful and shameful ending to their story, as happy memories of her childhood flooded back to her.

Callum flicked to the next page, as she saw them in a stance before the egg, as shadow figures ran away. “When Viren came to destroy the egg, some of the Dragonguard did run… but not them, they are the only ones who didn’t.” He told her. Her parents were holding hands before facing off Viren and Rayla had to blink twice to convince herself that they weren’t breathing. They looked so determined to defy the man who helped slain Avizandum. This was the closest she had been to them ever since they went away to be the Dragonguard. They were supposed to return and see her four months ago, if not for the unfortunate events that took place.

Callum revealed the next page, where on one side her mom and dad were beating Viren… until the drawing on the next page where Lain was on his knees, holding his neck as if he was choking.

“What has he done to my father?” She asked as her eyes went wide.

“Dark Magic,” Callum said gravely. “He did the same horrible spell on me, which takes your voice and breath away. It felt like I was choking… like I was dying.” Callum winced at the memory he experienced.

He quickly flipped to the last page, showing the last two standing Dragonguard immobilised by a freezing spell, as only their heads were not encased in ice. Viren stood with the same Sky Primal Stone that Callum destroyed, in one hand and his staff in the other. He had it raised over the dragon egg, about to destroy it. While the Dragon Queen was gone: her mate was petrified, the Dragonguard defeated and her egg assumed to have been destroyed… that made sense in Rayla’s head, leaving one thing to clear up.

“Why didn’t Viren destroy the egg?” She asked.

“Her,” Callum pointed to her mother. “Tiadrin urged Viren to keep the egg, saying how much magic and power it held. She suggested that it could become a powerful weapon and that destroying it would be a waste.” Callum closed the book, signalling that it was the last event the spell showed him. She realised exactly what her mother did. “They didn’t run. They fought… to the end.” He concluded, as his big genuine eyes looked at her.

“They saved the egg!” She said, as this time tears of joy welled at her eyes. She could actually feel joy once more. “We are here and Zym is alive all because of them!” She hugged Callum, the only reason why she now knew the truth. She also owed it to the fact that she gave him the Moon Opal. While it was her parting gift, the fact that he used it to try and find out what happened showed her how much he cared. She felt so grateful at how much she meant to him, that he went out and did it. As she held him tight, a question came to her mind. “What does this mean? What should I do?” She asked him, quietly speaking into his ear.

“I don’t know,” Callum whispered back. “But it’s your decision… no one else’s.”

She pulled away to smile admirably at him. How lucky she felt to have him be so wise and understanding, willing to admit and rectify his mistakes, growing past them. She placed her hand over his. His support made things easier for her to make her mind up. “We should decide together.”

* * *

Team Zym gathered around the circular table, looking at each other with incredible amounts of concentration, that only befitted the most difficult of decisions. Soren sat away from them cross-legged, looking a little awkward, as he was not sure if he should stay or join them.

Francis, who was finally done brooding for the day, started them off. “So, we all know the situation: sick Dragon Queen, an army of monsters and just us,” he said gravely. “We have two choices: either we make a stand or we go on the run. What are we thinking?”

“You’re our leader and you’ve been thinking about this for a while now,” Callum said. “Whatever you decide in the end goes and we will follow. So what are your thoughts?”

“No, Callum, that’s not how it works,” Francis shook his head. “I can’t just veto something this big. This decision has to be unanimous.” The Team looked at each other uneasily, as Francis waited for someone to speak first. When no one did, he continued. “Look, you probably all know that I want to stay and defend the Dragon Queen, but don’t let my statement discourage you from thinking otherwise. I need you to be genuine and unbiased when you tell us what you’re thinking. In the end, if all of you decide to run… then I’ll go with you.” Francis looked at them. He was ready to sacrifice his own stance for the sake of keeping everyone together.

“Uh, I know I’m not really part of the group, but can I say something?” Soren asked, getting up to his feet.

“Of course you can, Soren.” Francis said, ignoring the exasperated sigh and head roll Rayla was giving.

“I’ve known Viren longer than anyone here,” he began. “I mean, because he’s my dad… but it took me a really long time to understand who my dad really is. And it was really hard to see because… I really… I really looked up to him.” Soren sounded a little dejected. “He’s smart and the way he talks, you really believe he’s a good person, that everything he does is to protect his family, his home or all of humanity. He makes you think, that as long as you do what he says, you must be doing the right thing. Even when he asks you to do something bad, something… evil.” He covered his face, shivering at a thought as he sighed gravely. “He asked me to kill you, Callum and Ezran… and I almost did it. I’m so sorry. I stopped myself from making a terrible mistake just at the right time before Rayla and Francis showed up.” He regained his composure. “Look, truth is, someone who wants you to do horrible things and convinces you that they’re good… that’s a villain.” The conviction in his voice became stronger and stronger, as he looked at each one of them in the eyes. “My dad is a villain and he’s only going to get more powerful, and the more powerful he gets, the more people will listen, believe and follow him. So maybe we could run and we would be safe for a while, but he’s not going to give up. It may seem hopeless, but our only chance is to fight him here, while we’re all together. The only way to stop this, is to look evil in the eye and say ‘no more’.” He concluded. He looked a little gingerly at them, not sure what to expect.

“I was wrong,” Rayla was the first to react, as she approached him. “You are more than just a big, dumb lump, aren’t you?”

“Maybe a little more,” Soren conceded in good-spirited nature.

“It’s good to have you, Soren.” Francis followed, holding out his open palm, which Soren gladly shook. Francis looked at it carefully before adding jocundly. “Still need to work on your forearm strength.”

“What? Really?” Soren looked at him incredulously, his shoulders dropping before promptly realising that Francis was poking fun at him.

“So, we stay,” Callum concluded. “All of us?”

“Bait and Zym included.” Ezran spoke for them.

“All right, then,” Francis concluded, his head cocking in the direction of the entrance, where Ibis’s wings flapped, marking his return. “Bird Boy! Pray do tell me some good news.” Francis was suddenly in a cheerier mood. It was mostly genuine, but he did express it just a little bit more to keep everyone’s morale up.

“The Dark Mage’s army is going to be here by daybreak.” Ibis remarked distressingly.

“Plenty of time to set up.” Francis remained optimistic.

“There is something else,” Ibis added. “All of you must come outside.” He urged and everyone followed him to the main entrance.

“A Twin-Tailed Inferno-Tooth Tiger?” Francis referred to a great, grey winged, feline beast the size of a Banther, that had yellow shades of fur with occasional blue strands. The creature had rising horns on its head and on the ends of his two tails were small flames, trademark to most creatures connected to the Sun Arcanum. Next to the beast and just in front of the rope bridge were two familiar faces for Francis… for the rest, just one.

“Aunt Amaya!” Ezran exclaimed, running towards her aunt, with Callum following closely behind. She embraced them in a bear hug, as one would expect from General Amaya, even lifting their feet off the ground. Though when she opened her eyes and saw Rayla, her stance immediately became more aggressive… and Rayla didn’t back down. Thankfully Callum was there to sort it out.

“All that stuff at The Banther Lodge – big misunderstanding,” he said. “I’ll explain later, but Rayla is a friend.” Rayla awkwardly waved her hand and Francis hoped that for a moment a compromise between these two could be achieved… though General Amaya seemed to take Callum’s word for it and was now more tense at Francis himself than Rayla. “I see you have an elf friend too,” Callum pointed out. Amaya looked at Janai who was a little behind her and she chuckled.

 _“I was supposed to be her prisoner.”_ She signed.

“You!” Janai exclaimed. Francis pointed questioningly to himself, still more used to the fact that he was referred by the pronoun ‘He’ in the Human Kingdoms. “I’ve spent so long searching Lux Aurea when rumours of Your presence spread like wildfire and now I finally found You.”

“His name is Francis!” Rayla staunchly told her.

“He is the man who ran away?” Janai turned to Amaya.

“He did not…” Rayla began, but Francis hushed her with his arm raised in the air, urging her to calm down and let him do the talking.

“Good evening.” He finally said tactfully, as he nonchalantly walked towards the inferno tooth tiger. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Janai warned him. “Inferno tooth tigers are short tempered and they sense the purity of your heart, attacking you if you do not possess…” Janai didn’t finish her sentence, as she stared with her jaw dropped at the scene of Francis cuddling the tiger’s face. The tiger even purred and gave him a few licks on the face.

“I know him,” Francis said with a grin, rubbing his forehead with the creature. “I’ve met him when I was at Lux Aurea. He’s a big softie.” The tiger quietly growled at him. “Right, sorry, I won’t say that again and I promise to keep your favourite scratch spot a secret.”

“He has a favourite scratch spot?” Janai was totally stunned; the tiger was her mount.

“Of course he does,” Francis said, stepping away from the tiger. “Just be a little bit more open with him yourself and he’ll open up and let you know.”

“ _This_ is the man that ran away?” Janai looked questioningly at Amaya, who nodded.

“Anyways, I’m glad to finally meet you officially, Janai, Golden Knight of Lux Aurea.” Francis said calmly, crossing two hands in front of him and bowing, as was custom to greet the Sunfire royalty. She was completely taken aback and speechless, as she cluelessly looked around at everyone.

“That’s exactly how he befriended us,” Rayla shrugged her shoulders. “Only he had a Moonshadow spin to it.”

“I am surprised to see you, General Amaya,” Francis said, greeting her with a fist on his heart. She had an unreadable expression on her face. “I believe I have some explaining to do to you and that’s without mentioning all of this.” He waved to the rest of his Team. “Perhaps all of you can catch up on this later.” He suggested. General Amaya’s face still remained tense, but at the very least, she wasn’t looking at him with contempt. “Anyways, what are you doing here?”

“I’ve brought my city’s forces… what’s left of them,” Janai said.

“How many?” Francis asked.

“A good thousand soldiers.” Janai replied. “They are ready to fight the man who destroyed our home.” Encouraged by the news, Francis turned to Ibis.

“Ibis, we’re going to need a bigger table.”

* * *

How many times would Francis have to repeat the same thing over and over again, the reason for him ‘running away’? That he wasn’t listened to, that he wasn’t heard, that if you were the odd one out, then it was you that needed to make way and find new company. In the end after mistreatment he did just that as he refused to be forced down the same destructive path as them. Maybe he would have to repeat that his whole life, unless he did something that surpassed it. Truth be told, he sympathised with Rayla, since after defending the princes and the egg from Runnan, as well as not killing Marcos, she was in the same boat as him… and she was already feeling the backlash of her choices, an injustice he promised he would rectify.

Looking back at it now, if she didn’t side with the princes, if she wasn’t spotted in the Katolis forest by Marcos, then who knew if the egg would have ever been discovered? Certainly, none of them would be here right now and maybe they wouldn’t have ever met. It may have been a mistake in the short term, but it seemed to be working out extremely well in the long term. That was why Francis knew to sometimes reserve his judgement until things became clearer. He was still waiting to find out how much good his decision four years ago brought upon others, despite remaining unwavering in the rightness of it.

At least, General Amaya after hearing him explain his actions, seemed a lot less tense around him, as she always catered respect for him throughout the times they knew each other. She had a lot of faith in him and Francis even remembered Corvus mentioning her still speaking fairly highly of him even after he allegedly ran away. She just probably never could make any sense of it and was confused.

Anyways, with that out of the way, Francis focused on their planning, as he ignored the gnawing pain at his side. It was healing, but it certainly wouldn’t be fully healed by tomorrow. He would be lucky if it would be over half way healed. He did his best to cover the limp as Ibis led him, General Amaya and Janai towards the towering black wooden doors. When they went through it, they were presented with a spacious room, which harboured a grand stone roundtable in the middle, akin to a war table in Katolis. Incidentally it was also the room where Pyrrah resided. She was currently present in the room and her curious eyes remained on them as she was about to observe their discussion.

Francis heard Ibis shut the doors behind him and immediately tensed up. “What are you doing?” He asked Ibis.

“Closing the door,” he replied falteringly, frozen still in his walking motion.

“This isn’t everyone!” Francis said firmly.

“Who else do you want?” Ibis asked… an obvious answer was floating in the air around them.

“ _You can’t just invite everyone in!”_ General Amaya signed.

“I’m not doing this without my Team! I want Rayla, Callum and Ezran all to be present.” Francis was going to remain unconditional over that factor. He knew that surrounding oneself with right and capable people was just as important as knowing the destination yourself, in fact it could make or break the journey to that destination. A leader was nothing without his followers and sometimes he was only as strong as his followers were. Doing this without them, after everything they have been through felt wrong and unjust.

“They are too young and inexperienced. They are just kids!” Janai argued.

“Nearly a month ago, they were,” Francis replied earnestly. “Rayla was going on her first ever assassin’s mission having never killed previously, Callum was what people referred to as step-prince and Ezran was just a child. Since then Rayla risked her life many times to save others, Callum has done the same and forged his path to become the first human Primal Mage and Ezran has become the king of Katolis. They may be young and it is still early days for them, but they are not just kids anymore.”

“ _That does not justify the need for them to be here_ ,”General Amaya looked at him with her iron willed stare.

“They have been with me shoulder to shoulder throughout this entire three week journey across half the continent and they have all grown so much!” Francis raised his voice, leaning a little over the table and thrusting his finger at them. “They have poured their heart and soul into everything thus far. They are selfless, caring, kind and have went through such hardships and tragedy and still remained strong, showing resilience and their obsidian core. That is Character, they are Personas, both words with capital letters. Nearly every day they displayed such feats of bravery and heroism that it will make every single soldier from both Sunfire Squadron and the Standing Battalion jealous. In fact, pray do tell me, how many people do you know, excluding me, who have left behind their homes, their families and everything they have known? Not many people are brave enough to do that in their adulthood and all three of them did it at such a young age. They looked beyond themselves and did what they thought was right, not what was assumed and told to be right by others. They have stuck together from day one, looking beyond the difference and stigmas of their races. All of them are heroes that already deserve to have their story told across all of Xadia. And at such a young age!” Francis was mercilessly stabbing his finger into the table, passion spilling out of every single movement, after every single blink, after every single breath. “Those are the types of people that need to be held on, that need to be by your side and those are the types of people I will gladly put everything aside and lay my life for. After everything they have been through, they deserve to be here in this discussion.” Francis paused, as he considered his next words carefully. “They are either in or you’re doing this without me!” Francis’s eyes darted between General Amaya and Janai, waiting patiently for their response. He had to wait in silence for a while.

“ _Look, I get that they are your friends_ ,” General Amaya finally signed. “ _But is it really necessary to have them here, when we already have us three tacticians here?_ ”

“A skilful and scary warrior, a quick thinking and bright mage and a wise future king, all of which could find this experience enriching.” Francis replied immediately. “Besides Commander Gren is always present by your side and I’m confident that if you two weren’t separated then he would be here and you wouldn’t question it. So do I need to say anything more?” He expectantly looked up at the two of them. They stayed silent and the look in their eyes wasn’t so firm and disagreeing anymore. They didn’t look like they were totally satisfied with the outcome, but they couldn’t do anything about it, as Francis made his ultimatum very clear. “Ibis,” he said after a heavy pause. Ibis nearly jumped in surprise, as he remained rooted to the spot by the door, silently observing this entire time. “Go and get them all here,” he ordered. “Please and thank you.” He added just before the door was shut.

* * *

Soren watched from the side as Ezran, Rayla and Callum were sitting around the playful Zym. Looking at this cute scene brought him a small sweet smile on his face. He remembered how all of this started for him, as he winced slightly at the memory. What would have happened if he went through with his father’s request? He wouldn’t be here and he certainly wouldn’t observe such a wholesome picture before him. Their loud laughter was infectious and it didn’t at all look like tomorrow was anything special. Perhaps it hadn’t dawned on them that it was a big day historically, that would also see the loss of many lives – a day that was bigger than all of them combined. Maybe they were just trying to prolong the peace and quiet before all of them would face the big battle tomorrow. Whatever they were trying to achieve, it had to be cut short sooner or later… and it happened to be sooner.

“Erm,” Ibis elongated for a little bit, before finally saying. “You are wanted at the meeting.”

“Us?” Rayla asked, looking confounded.

“Francis insisted,” Ibis replied, his look and expression a little vacant… a little distracted.

“Is everything okay?” Ezran asked. “You look a little shaken…”

“It’s Francis,” Ibis said simply. “I’m amazed, is all. After getting to know him closely, I’m still getting left awestruck by him. After all this time, I still can’t understand how he keeps doing it. Does he have a limit? Does he even have a breaking point? He’s indomitable. He cares so much about all of you, he was fearless in front of the two generals and even threatened to walk out if they didn’t allow you to come in, as if tomorrow we all wouldn’t be staring death in the eyes. I’ve never seen him act around someone like this before. It is clear that he loves you, with all of his heart and even more.”

“We are lucky to have met him.” Callum replied.

“He’s lucky to have met you,” Soren said genuinely, without malice, making their heads turn. “I’ve been on the receiving end of his wrath whenever I threatened any of you and he only becomes this unstoppable force whenever he has someone or something to fight for. He is only doing it because all of you made it worth it for him. In all of his struggles, he never lost himself, whilst I definitely have.” Soren sighed. “He always firmly stood by what he believed in, by his principals, by his well-defined moral compass. It is incredible that he gives and gives but never asks for anything in return. I was somehow blind to all of that. What Francis does is nothing short of admirable… that is a hero.”

The trio looked at him in agreement and then finally went to the meeting room. Soren stopped leaning against the wall and followed them, ignoring his whining ribs. He wasn’t invited, but it was his duty as Crown Guard to remain close by the king’s side, even if he was still recovering from an injury. He would stand guard at the door, even if nothing could happen here. He watched Ezran go through the door first and once he disappeared behind the doorframe, Soren turned to face outwards at attention. He heard the door behind him begin to close.

“Is that Soren lurking around the corner?” He heard Francis’s voice.

Ibis immediately stopped closing door. “He looks to be standing guard,” he told Francis. Soren could hear a hushed growl of that red dragon, who must have been in the corner.

“Pyrrah, he’s a friend,” Ezran defended Soren. “He changed his ways.”

“He should be in here, let him in.” Francis replied. Soren’s eyes went wide. Francis… invited him to their battle planning?

“Do you maybe want to invite the entire force of Lux Aurea as well, while we’re at it?” Janai snarked, exasperated. Soren didn’t move.

“No one is stopping you from inviting Lieutenants and the people you trust.” Francis defended his actions. “Soren is a leader and a Crown Guard, it is in his best interest to know the plan.” Soren half turned towards the open door, absolutely dazed by his comment. “Soren, what are you waiting for? Get in here, already!”

* * *

As soon as everyone gathered around the stone table, Francis didn’t waste any time, as he placed his palms on the stone.

“Callum, get your sketchbook out and draw the overview of the bottom of the Storm Spire.” He said and Callum quickly got to it.

“Can he draw?” Janai asked.

“Incredibly well.” Rayla said and Amaya looked at her nephew with pride… something that Rayla’s gaze matched.

“Ibis, on your scouting mission, how many soldiers have you calculated?” Francis asked as Callum was drawing his sketch.

“About nine thousand,” he replied, but not entirely firmly.

“Make that ten thousand, you have a tendency to undercut when estimating.” Francis said absentmindedly, looking pensively up in the corner.

“How many do we have again?” Ezran asked.

“It’s ten to one,” Francis replied automatically. “Steep… but I like those odds.” He said decisively, hoping to spur others with his confidence.

Once he finished, Callum put his sketchbook and pencil at the centre of the table. Janai nodded her head, impressed at the accuracy of the drawing. “You would make an incredible scout.” She mused.

“ _Imagine, if he could fly_ ,” General Amaya signed. “ _He would be the best scout of all time_.”

“Do we all agree that we will take a defensive stance and hold the line?” Francis checked, although considering the numbers, that was pretty much a given.

“There is a perfect choke point here,” Janai pointed between the two massive rocks that were at each side of the entrance. “That is where we should stand our ground.”

“Second that.” Francis stated.

“ _Do we have any ranged soldiers?_ ” General Amaya asked Janai.

“No, only shield bearers and warriors,” she replied, once Callum translated the sign language. “But the forces of Lux Aurea will fight bravely to the last elf standing.”

“That’s a given,” Francis remarked. It was the general gist of Sunfire elves – they liked to be on the offensive, always. Even when they defended, blocked or parried, their next move was almost always set up to be attacking. “But it’s a shame that we don’t have any archers.”

“What is playing to our hand is that despite their forces being vicious, they are sloppy and not as disciplined as they probably could be.” Ibis recalled. “It’s as if their anger makes them both stronger and weaker.”

“ _Regardless of that, our job is to hold the line_.” General Amaya signed.

“So what happens if some breakthrough?” Soren raised a point.

“Didn’t Francis say something about a narrow stairway?” Ezran remembered.

“Yes!” Rayla agreed. “The Spire’s landscape will become a natural advantage for us.”

“When they’ll try to climb up, they’ll be at their most vulnerable.” Francis concluded the point.

“ _But we still have no ranged soldiers_ ,” General Amaya signed. “ _So we can only afford one warrior to hold them back on their way up the Spire_.”

“Actually,” Callum raised his hand. “I am technically a ranged soldier, since I’m a mage. I have zap hands.” Callum waved his fingers and made noises that imitated zapping.

“Agreed, that totally works,” Francis said, breaking the confused stares of General Amaya, Soren, Ibis and Janai, who still couldn’t quite comprehend that Callum was a Sky Mage. That and the unnecessary theatrics contributed to the confusion… but at least Callum could find comfort at the fondness of his friends’ stares. Such tender youthful innocence.

“Our objective must be protecting the Dragon Prince at any cost.” Rayla continued on. “I believe someone must stay up here with Zym.”

“It must be a worthy defender.” Janai said.

“And I have the perfect person in mind,” Francis said with a warm knowing smile, his eyes closed. “You are a shield, you protect and stand up for those who cannot protect themselves. Their safety is the pinnacle of your priorities.” His head turned to Rayla, as Francis told her the Dragonguard’s promise. “Pro Rex Draconis. Per Virtus. Per Fortitudo. Per Honor.”

“You keep surprising me more and more,” Janai remarked. “What don’t you know?”

“Plenty,” Francis replied shortly and dryly. “But I know no better person to protect The Dragon Prince,” he looked straight into Rayla’s widening eyes, as it finally began to dawn on her. “Reliable, headstrong and will fight until the end… just like her parents.”

“The Last Dragonguard.” Janai said in support.

“Pro Rex Draconis. Per Virtus. Per Fortitudo. Per Honor.” Rayla repeated with a straightened back, spurred by the responsibility. “I will stay and no matter what happens, I will keep him safe.” She looked at Callum’s admiring eyes and that made her glow proudly even more.

“Okay,” Soren regained their focus. “That’s a plan.”

“ _Probably the best one we can come up with, given our situation_.” General Amaya signed.

“What are our chances then?” Callum asked. There was grave and heavy silence for a while, that made things really uncomfortable.

“Impos…” Janai finally began, but was immediately cut off.

“Improbable, choice of words please.” Francis glared. “Under the right circumstances there is a chance and we possess those circumstances; we can do this!” He insisted adamantly, his pupils looking fearlessly into Janai’s eyes.

“Remain realistic!” She retorted. “We are heavily outnumbered and two out of four of our best fighters are moderately injured and we can’t help heal you, because our one medic isn’t a mage and I don’t possess any Sunfire healing capabilities, unlike some.” Janai pointed out.

“So what, are you going to tell that to the soldiers?” Francis argued.

“If I may,” Ibis hesitantly interrupted. Francis and Janai remained glaring at each other but neither of them continued, allowing him to speak. “The odds are heavily stacked against us and we will need all the help we can get. I can fly and get it.” He didn’t wait for their validation as he stepped away from everyone and casted the mage wing spell. Besides, it was better than nothing.

Pyrrah suddenly growled from the corner, picking up Ibis’s implication and she quickly approached Ezran. She lowered her head and neck in front of him.

“You really think so?” Ezran asked and she made a noise of agreement. He nodded and climbed onto her back. “We’re going to find more help too, big help.”

“Wow,” Callum chuckled. “My little brother, all grown up and riding dragons.” Ezran gave him a smile, but said nothing in return, as him, Pyrrah and Ibis flew out of the room through the hole at the top.

Everyone looked at each other, waiting for someone to add anything to what they had… but really was there anything else to say, knowing how little they had at their disposal?

“So is that our plan then?” Janai double checked with narrow eyes.

“Survive long enough until backup comes.” Francis concluded.

“That’s it?” She looked around incredulously.

“ _What else is there to say?_ ” General Amaya looked at her.

“What about a backup plan? What if we’re losing?” Janai asked, spreading her hands.

“We won’t! We can’t!” Francis said sharply, looking befuddled at the both of them.

“ _As much as I hate to say it, Janai has a point. Any other situation and I would reject the idea completely, but we are heavily outnumbered_.” General Amaya signed.

“We need to at least have some course of action!” Janai argued.

“No!” Francis exclaimed, slamming his fist into the table. “If you plan for a defeat, you’ll lose! We can’t lose, the consequences are too steep to allow for it to happen, let alone plan.” His eyes jumped around from one person to the other, as he spoke, ignoring the unwelcome pair of orange eyes that were in the background, screwing their sight right into his skull. “If we lose, a human army is going to kill the Dragon Prince and the Dragon Queen. It will decimate the entire political stability in the Eastern Xadia. If that happens we will be plunged into another war between humans and elves and then we will never be able to recover from it. I’m not even mentioning what the Archdragons will do, as they will certainly eye an empty throne. We either win or we are all doomed to die!”

“Francis,” Soren looked at him with sorry eyes. “I completely understand where you are coming from, believe me, I do… but winning whilst heavily outnumbered ten to one against super strong and angry soldiers, with my painfully sore ribs and your heavily bruised side – that is a big ask. I know you went and beaten heavily stacked odds before and it is kind of your specialty now at this point, but this is bigger than anything we ever faced.” All eyes fell on Francis, as they looked for his reply and how he would propose to get out of this one, knowing his impenetrable determination.

“I know that this is a huge ask, I would be kidding myself if I didn’t acknowledge that,” he said earnestly. “But I ask you all not to dwell on what we don’t have and instead focus on what we do have: our forces that are willing to avenge the fall of Lux Aurea, a human mage, a backup that will be coming. If we are to have any chance of grabbing victory – we have to believe in the best outcome. I know that it looks like a huge leap and that we are doomed to fall into the dark abyss, but if we are confident in ourselves and it’s clearly worth it, then we have to put faith in the best outcome, because the world and the course of history depend on us. If we remain faithful and true and take that leap, then we will fight twice as stronger, and then thrice and then maybe we will fight as though as we are flying on wings… of love, of valour, of righteousness.” Francis closed Callum’s book and slid it to him, as the orange eyes slowly and reluctantly lurked away. “We have to throw everything we have at winning without a deviation to anything else. We have to believe in our success.” Francis put his palm in the middle of the table. “We can only do it together, as one.” He looked hopefully at everyone… he needed them to trust in themselves, trust each other and in the best outcome.

“Together as a team.” Rayla put her hand over his.

“Team Azymondias.” Callum followed suit, his free hand holding onto Rayla’s under the table.

“Together against the evil.” Soren joined.

“Together, regardless of who we are.” Janai put her hand after considering his words for a little longer.

“ _In unity we shall stand side by side_.” General Amaya signed, placing her hand over them all.

“All right, then,” Francis said, feeling a wave of energy gushing from them into him. “We fight until the end.”


	24. The Battle at The Storm Spire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "On the most important battle in recent history, one we can’t afford to lose, too many things are against us. Winning is impossible... but because I know you’re here, because of you – we have a chance."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little tip, whilst reading the battle sections of this chapter: consider listening to Beethoven's 5th Symphony. When I was re-reading this, it enriched my reading experience, so maybe it will do the same for you.

The biting cold air caressed Callum’s face, as he snuck out of the Storm Spire’s main hall. He did his best not to wake the dreamy Rayla, who was softly humming in her sleep. During the night, she again must have shuffled closer to him, almost cuddling him, to seek warmth.

Armed with a white tipped paint brush in his hand, he battled against the prevailing strong breeze that was always going to be present this high up, as his scarf flailed backwards at his neck. It was almost subconscious for Callum to feel each and every gale hit his body and the movement of the Sky around him, but what really added spring to his step was the possible prospect of having wings. He flew up the steps to the pinnacle to find that he wasn’t the first one there… surprise, surprise, it was Francis. It startled Callum to see him without his shirt, rubbing some ointment into his side. The endless scars sure were a sore sight on his torso, as Callum winced at the visual reminder of Francis’s errors.

“Good morning, Callum,” he said without turning around nor interrupting his action. “You seem to be really excited.”

“How do you know that?”

“I just have a feeling.” Even if Francis wasn’t facing him, Callum could see that the corners of his face twitched upwards… he was definitely smiling. “I also figured it out. Only you possess such loud footsteps and only you would be this excited to get up here.”

Callum shrugged his shoulders, those were fair observations. “Another sleepless night?” He asked.

“Sleepless and restless,” Francis sighed. “The worst combination: you can’t fall asleep and when you do, it is short and not energising at all.”

Callum got up and stood beside him, peeking over at his bruised side. It looked a little better, since it was smaller, but it was still a jarring sight. Having no clue what else to say, Callum remained silent as they both stared into the horizon, at a small hopeful sun that trudged upwards through the heavy white clouds, bathing the view in orange sunrays.

“Anyways,” Francis broke the silence, putting on his black shirt with orange lines. “You were excited about something?”

“Oh, I… um,” Callum stuttered.

“Sky Magic.” Francis answered the question himself.

“Yes.”

“Trying to impress someone?” Francis winked, nudging him with his elbow. “I saw your twinkly starry-eyed gaze when you watched Bird Boy grow wings.”

“It’s cool, right?” Callum deflected.

“You’re avoiding my question, lover boy.”

“I’m not trying to impress, Rayla,” Callum responded, heavily blushing.

“Aha, right,” Francis nodded with a cheeky grin and a satisfied chuckle. “So what’s stopping you from painting the runes on your arms?” He asked after giving a quick glance at the paint brush.

“The cold air,” Callum replied hesitantly. “It’s a little uncomfortable.”

“It’s uncomfortable to sleep on the ceiling – the duvet keeps falling off. Come on, take that jacket off already and get to it.” Francis waved him on unceremoniously, as Callum took off his blue jacket to reveal his sleeveless shirt underneath it. He painstakingly raised the brush and began to draw the three runes on each sides of his arm. “I would offer a hand, but unlike you, I don’t have some sort of photographic memory.” Francis remarked. He watched Callum’s tongue stick out in concentration, as he focused entirely on the tip of the brush. A proud smile ghosted on Francis’s lips, but not his eyes, as he quietly retired away from the pinnacle. He had his own issues to focus on.

Only when Callum finally finished painting the runes, he noticed that Francis was gone… he didn’t dwell too much on it however, as the biting cold and unbridled excitement consumed him. He spread his arms out, as he readied himself with an exhale. He wondered how his wings would look? Would they be black, grand and sharp as Ibis’s were or would they be entirely different? There was only one way to find out.

“ _Manus, Pluma, Volantus!_ ” Callum chanted with his eyes closed, fully focusing on the feeling of his arms, waiting patiently for the feathers to grow… but nothing felt different. Callum opened his eyes to doublecheck and unsurprisingly he was looking at his normal hands and not beautiful wings. His arms felt itchy and he hoped that maybe it was just slow the first time someone casted a spell… firstly, naïve and wishful thinking; secondly, that feeling might have been the wind.

In any case, Callum thought that maybe, for some reason, if he moved and stretched, it would somehow speed up the process. He really was in denial about a possibility that the spell just didn’t work, that he didn’t master it, that he ignored Ibis’s words. He flailed his hands and even jumped for extra measure, but nothing of note occurred.

“Did you pull a muscle in a middle of a jumping jack?” Callum heard Rayla’s voice behind him.

“Oh, uh, no,” Callum replied, quickly looking behind him, like he was caught out. The gleeful smile that often melted his heart was present on Rayla’s face, as her crinkling eyes brushed his demeanour in amusement. It almost smitten him completely, but he managed to quickly regain his composure. “I was just,” Callum was trying to think of something very quickly, some sort of excuse that would justify his ridiculous looking actions. He laughed nervously, as he thought of what Francis would do in his position. “… greeting the sunrise,” he awkwardly waved ahead of him. “Hello, sun, how’s it going?” He felt like a dork doing this and he definitely looked like one… without the confidence, there was no way to pull this off.

“Whatever you say, my Smitten Prince.” Rayla crossed her arms, with a cheery look on her face. Fine, maybe he should just put his jacket on already and get on with something else… there was only one thing to get on with. It looked like he was going to have to bring back the Sad Prince.

“You know, it’s a big day,” Callum mused earnestly, looking out at the clouds below him. Enough time had passed of him practicing the spell, that the sun endowed the clouds and sky in pinkish hues. “It could be our last.” He said gravely.

“Yeah,” Rayla sighed, before going on optimistically. “To be fair, that’s true every day.”

“Okay, but to be even more fair, it’s not every day that you get attacked by an army of ten thousand monster-soldiers.” Callum reasoned.

Rayla’s violet eyes just fondly looked at him and Callum, feeling enamoured and intoxicated by gazing into them, just shut his mouth. Her smile just made Callum forget completely about what was going to happen today and he welcomed that dazed feeling. He just wanted time to freeze so that this moment would never go away… but he was just a Sky Mage, not some time travelling mage, if that even existed.

She approached him and held his hand, as they looked at the sun that finally broke through the clouds and prevailed over them. The longer they stood there in silence, the more Callum felt two acute feelings in his mind. The first one was that, really, this could be their last day… truly, it looked like they were facing certain deaths. The second one was Rayla, how real she felt in his hand right now and how much he didn’t want to let go of her. He already firmly believed that she was special, that she wasn’t like anyone he had ever met or known. Ever since meeting her, she had shown him so much that he didn’t know about himself or the elves… frankly, she was a huge part of Callum’s journey on discovering who he was, that he was more than just a useless step-prince. He wasn’t just thankful to the world for her stumbling into his previously lost and, in comparison, boring life. He was thankful to the world for her just being alive. He noticed how his heart was beating heavily, like never before. This could be his last ever day with her! She needed to know what he felt like right now… but he didn’t know how to quite put it into words. There was just so much to tell her… where would he even start? He decided to just wing it, as he felt butterflies flap in his stomach… like winging it worked for him the previous time.

“Rayla?” He turned and she looked at him attentively. “If today is our last day, I want you to know…” he saw her head duck slightly in anticipation, as her pointy ears lowered. This wasn’t getting any easier… just like last time… but he already started so he might as well finish it. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth to continue his speech…

“Hey, guys!” Soren’s loud and exuberant voice rang out to them from the staircase, waving his hand like he was hitting a bell. “Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding! Time for the battle meeting! Ding-ding.”

“We’re coming.” Rayla called out and dragged Callum with her.

 _Thanks, Soren._ Callum wasn’t sure if he was sarcastic and grumbling at the fact that Soren interrupted their moment or actually genuinely thankful, because he hadn’t thought of anything precise and concise to say. This moment couldn’t be messed up, it felt so big and important. He rued and cursed at himself, because he really didn’t know how to put what he was feeling into words.

He was in such turmoil over it that he hadn’t quite realised that not only he wasn’t holding Rayla’s hand anymore but that he also fell a little behind her and Soren… and in fact, Soren was slowing down to be more in line with Callum.

“So, like, I want to say something to you,” he told Callum, who jerked his head back in surprise. Soren certainly wasn’t known for having a word with others. “You know all those times I called you the step-prince or made fun of you or knocked you down and stuff? You remember that?”

“I do,” Callum replied, tensing up, feeling annoyed. He really wasn’t in the mood for Soren to brag about how Callum wasn’t good at anything, not on their potentially last ever day. “I do remember that.”

“Well, I’m sorry.” Soren said. Callum stopped, as he looked at Soren nonplussed, feeling his eyes were about to escape the orbit. “It was wrong and I’m sorry for it. I think it was because even though the king was your stepdad, it was… it was so clear how much he loved you and that made me feel… jealous and upset.” Callum blinked. Was he dreaming? Had he already died and he was just in the afterlife? In which universe was Soren so sensitive? Callum thought that maybe he was not hearing him correct, but no… Soren looked as contrite as he sounded when he continued. “So I picked on you, because I didn’t know any better,” Soren paused for a second, looking to the side. “Also because you’re smaller and weaker.” There he was, the Soren he knew. Things were back to normal; the universe was back in its place.

“Oh, thanks… I guess,” Callum managed.

“And slower,” Soren chuckled, pointing at Callum. “I forgot slower.” He scratched the back of his head. “So, should we, like, hug or something? You know, to seal the apology? Is that a thing?”

“Uh, I don’t think that’s necessa…” Callum didn’t get to finish his sentence, as he felt the remaining air suddenly escape him, as Soren crushed his lungs in the hug. Callum grunted, his arms constricted behind Soren’s muscly one’s, as he lifted Callum, leaving him dangling his feet. He held him for longer than necessary, but at least this was a welcome change compared to what Soren usually did to him… a hugely surprising change, but a welcomed one nonetheless. Callum only had to wait for that change until their potentially last ever day.

“Guys, I know you’re all cute, made up and all that, but we have an important meeting.” Rayla saved him.

“Right, sorry,” Soren said, letting go of Callum and incidentally dropping him on the ground. Callum groaned in slight exasperation, but he guessed that some things with Soren would never change.

* * *

“When you capture the dragonling, I will show you how to take its power,” Aaravos floated around in front of Viren, speaking through his caterpillar that draped over his shoulders, its tail wrapping around Viren’s waist. “How to imbue yourself with all of its magic and potential, so that you will transcend the limits of your human form. None will dare to stand against you.” He said with a malicious smile on his face. “Remember, the transition onto the second phase of the plan is crucial.” Viren nodded. He slowed his horse down, so that he could be in line with Claudia, who held the Sunfire elf’s staff with the now black ball of sun in the middle.

“I am proud of you, Claudia,” he told her. “Despite everything, you have stood beside me.”

“Well, of course, you’re my father, dad.” She said, her eyes showing how hugely she appreciated those words.

“I know, it’s just… you have grown up so brilliant and strong, but you are still my little girl.” Viren said… _our little girl._

“We’re all that’s left of our family,”Claudia said, lowering her head a little, but then she exclaimed unwaveringly. “I won’t let anything break us apart!”

Viren beamed proudly at her, before halting her and himself. Blocking the entrance, between two massive rocks, was a line of shields that were held up by Sunfire elf soldiers.

“Aww,” Claudia mused sarcastically. “Dad, look, they have shields. Maybe we should just give up and turn around?”

Viren chuckled at that, but immediately regained his seriousness. “Do you remember what you have to do when I give the signal?”

“Yes, I remember.” Claudia told him.

“It seems that we will be forced to end up doing ‘that’ plan.” Viren clarified.

“I understand.”

“King Viren,” Councilman Saleer interjected. “We will begin the battle on your command, but we need the armies to fall in line and get ready.”

“Do it,” Viren ordered. “Make it quick. History doesn’t wait.”

_I certainly had to wait three hundred years for this._

* * *

The meeting went well, as the Lieutenants were thoroughly informed of everything that was required of them and their troops. Francis carefully inspected the faces of the Lieutenants, making sure that everyone looked fine, ready and motivated… and it seemed to be the case with all but one elf. His face looked anxious and nervous… and incidentally, he looked the youngest of them all. Francis casually made his way towards him, as Janai prepared to escort her Lieutenants in twos down to the bottom on her inferno tooth tiger. The Lieutenant went outside and sat on the stairs, fiddling with his four fingers.

“What’s wrong, sonny boy?” Francis asked him, making him jump a little.

The Lieutenant looked at him for a long time, but he guessed that he was bad at hiding his true feelings. “Just a little anxious,” he said very quietly.

“It’s a big battle, it’s normal.” Francis sat beside him, resting his elbows on his knees.

“We may be outnumbered,” Rayla suddenly popped out.

“But we’ve got a plan and we’ll win.” Callum said confidently.

“I respect your confidence. It’s just,” the Lieutenant looked at them uncertainly, before finally sighing. “I’m not exactly ready to die.”

“No one really is,” Francis said calmly, then added. “What day is it today?”

“Sunday, our Holy day” The Lieutenant replied.

“Is it actually?” Francis asked. The Lieutenant nodded. Francis must have lost track of calendar days at some point; he was a couple of days off. “Oh, then there is nothing to worry about – we can’t die on a Sunday.” The Lieutenant looked puzzled at Francis, who stared pensively through the clouds at the battlegrounds below him.

“You can’t die on a holy day.” Rayla explained.

“Really?” The Lieutenant looked incredulously at them. “Who believes that?”

“I believe it and as long as it helps me, I will continue to believe in it.” Francis said.

“Does it actually help you or are you saying this to try and calm me down?”

“Both,” Francis said honestly. “I mean, I’m still alive and it helps me to calm down my nerves.”

“Maybe I’ll try then, thank you.” The Lieutenant said simply and seeing that he was next, he quickly got to his feet and walked with a far more confident stride than he did previously.

“I’m glad that worked.” Callum thought out loud.

While him and Rayla were looking at the Lieutenant, Francis took the opportunity and walked unnoticed towards the edge. He stood akimbo, as his eyes were again looking down through the clouds, his orange lines reflecting a little in the sun. This was it, the culmination of their three week journey. Their last stand to protect Zym, whom they have been carrying all this time. But it wasn’t just that… any of Francis’s future endeavours in trying to bring peace and coexistence between humans and elves right now relied solely on the outcome of this battle. Would it remain an idealised and naïve dream or would actually become something more tangible than that? It would define whether everything he did since running away was worth it. He flinched at the idea, quickly burying it away, of what he would become if they lost. They couldn’t… period. Even if they were perhaps the biggest underdogs in the entire history of Xadia… so be it! If he had to take on the entire army just to win, he would do it without questioning. Life was the most precious thing anyone possessed… it was worth fighting for… until the end.

“Are you okay?” Rayla asked, bringing him out of his head.

“Just mentally preparing,” he replied. “Wouldn’t want my first big battle be my last one too.” Francis gave a light chuckle. Though it quickly went away as he continued seriously. “We can’t fail, so it won’t be our last battle, although this is going to be difficult.”

“We’ve faced steep odds before and you are well known for consistently defying them.” Callum said encouragingly. Francis felt a smile ghost his face – ‘consistently defying odds’ was ironically the best way to describe their entire journey… as well as unprecedented, unconventional and unbelievable.

“This isn’t about me,” Francis finally said. “There is a lot of pretending in leadership and a lot of things get taken out of your control. On the most important battle in recent history, one we can’t afford to lose, too many things are against us.” Worst of all was that their disadvantages were painfully obvious, but every single one of them today still had to act strong, like none of the disadvantages even existed.

“So what are our chances, really?” Rayla asked the obvious question.

Francis closed his eyes. They had absolutely no chance and nothing… absolutely nothing could help them! Not even a hundred miracles would be enough… and yet… at least he had something better than all of those miracles combined.

“Impossible,” he finally replied. “But because I know you’re here, because of you – we have a chance.” He looked at them and before anyone could say anything else he hugged them tightly.

“With you and your resilience, tenacity and obsidian backbone, we all know we have a chance.” Rayla returned his words to him.

“Besides, we’ve made it this far, we can’t back down now.” Callum said, his mouth muffled by his shoulder.

“You know, my grandmother always told me that the only way in life is forward, because there is a pathologist behind us.” Francis allowed a small and quiet snort. “One of her doctor friends must have told her that.”

“Humans are weird and have weird humour.” Rayla remarked lightly.

“And yet you still fell for one,” Francis couldn’t depart without one last tease and he was successful in getting her and probably Callum to blush too. “Only doctors can joke about something this dark.” He mused.

“Francis! Callum!” Janai shouted from her tiger. “Get your farewells over with, we need to go. Their army is already here.” Francis felt pained to break up the hug so soon, but he did so reluctantly.

“See you in a bit.” Francis told Rayla as they shook each other’s forearms. Francis stood to the side and waited for Callum to say his goodbye. Naturally, Callum was a little lost for words, as he clearly wanted to say something. He opened and closed his mouth several times, before Rayla simply pecked him on the lips.

As Callum was leaving, she held his hand for as long as she could, before it fell to the side. It was surprising that General Amaya and Janai, who were already on the tiger, waiting for them, didn’t react to that… perhaps his cape and shoulders covered their vision. Good, the less distracting questions there were, the better it was.

Callum thankfully was small enough to fit with the three of them on the tiger, as Francis had to get over his apprehension of heights for a brief moment of descent. He saw the upcoming battlegrounds before him: an orange glowing landslide, waiting to be unleashed, and a small pebble to stop it all.

They landed on higher grounds through which the Spire’s stairway went, letting Callum dismount. They didn’t say anything… they just nodded at him… what was there to say anyway? Francis smirked and put two fingers to his temple and flicked them at him. The tiger took off again and landed in front of the warriors that already had their swords out and ready. All three of them dismounted and looked at the army with their orange pulsating veins and eyes that stared hungrily down at them.

* * *

Fixing his straight and sharp forelock, Francis for the last time paid attention to his hard beating heart and gripped the hilt of his sword that remained sheathed behind his back. At the touch of the golden hilt on his fingertips and palms, his nerves immediately were soothed, as he leant forward. His mouth became small and his eyes hawkish as he began to feel everything more acutely and he became hyper aware. He drowned out the whining side and every other distracting noise around him, as he stared dead ahead, up at the glowing forces.

In front of him, the shield bearers stood closer together with their shields up, as their first line of defence prepared. In the obnoxiously loud silence that always preceded any kinds of storms, Francis could feel the sweat drop and the tension of the elves that held those shields. Francis saw someone on the horse dressed in white robes raise his hand… and then drop it.

The stampede of running footsteps and the guttural cries that followed were all deadened in Francis’s head. His mind was consumed by what those elves at the front were feeling, how their muscles tensed, how confidently they stood. _Come on, guys, don’t psych yourselves out,_ he told them in his mind. _You are all one shield._

Through the noise of the charging wave, Francis could still hear Janai’s voice clearly. “Wait…” she commanded her shield bearers. Francis could make out the angry faces of their opponents. She insisted on waiting a little longer. He could see the enemy’s nostrils flair up and he felt the heat that radiated off of their bodies. She still didn’t give the command. The enemy started to swing their weapons.

“Now!” She shouted. The shields linked together, producing a stunning golden yellow barrier and they stomped the bottom of their shields into the ground.

 _Boom!_ A shockwave flung back the batch of soldiers that were at the front. However, the ‘human’ army didn’t flinch as they continued running at them relentlessly. Clanking noises of armour and weapons colliding with shields pierced Francis’s ears, as he watched the army pummel at them.

“For Lux Aurea!” Janai shouted and the soldiers picked her words up, as the warriors rushed on to help them.

When Francis reached the shield bearers, he saw the ground beneath the elf in front of him beginning to give way, as she slowly slid. His first instinct was to jump into the shield to prevent the wailing soldiers from crashing in. His unhurt side and shoulder bore the impact of the jump, as he managed to help push some of soldiers back, but not for long. They just kept coming and coming, non-stop, the bigger battalion… and a few must have trickled through.

“Hold the line!” He barely heard Soren shout. “Push them back!”

Francis heard clashing behind him, but it was quickly subdued. They were holding on… barely. Any holes had to be dealt with immediately, because if they turned into gaps, it would become lethal for them.

_One gap. One gap!_

He saw the elf beside him fall, dropping his shield to the ground. Francis’s leg stuck out at the hole, tripping the first few soldiers that went through it. He stepped into it, punching the next one right in the face. His hand immediately recoiled backwards, as his knuckles felt singed from the hit. He grabbed the shield with his other hand and plugged the hole with it, letting out a strained and bellowing cry. The nails on his hand cut into his scars on his palms, as he put everything and more into that one grip.

He felt another elf topple beside him and before his mind could register it, his reflexes took over and he twisted the shield sideways, covering the hole beside him as well. He ducked his head just in time, feeling the blade swish by at the tip of his forelock. From the lower position, he proceeded to stomp at the shins of the monsters that walloped against his shield. He saw the elf that fell earlier slowly sit up, as she recovered from her daze.

“Get up, soldier!” He told her, grabbing her hand with his free one and pulling her up and handing back her shield.

Francis unsheathed his sword and was going to stand in the way of the second hole, but General Amaya came in with her Katolis shield and covered it. She nodded to him, commending his quick thinking, as she hinted him with her eyes to help others. Francis used the hilt of his sword to knock at the soldiers who tried to climb over, jumping up at them ferociously.

He glanced from side to side, looking for any open holes in their line. There were none; they were surviving… just about. Thankfully, the ‘human’ armies didn’t have any horsemen, because this would have meant certain doom for them. However he did remember seeing three horses on their front lines. He peeked through the gaps in the shields and saw someone… some woman with a golden staff akin to the ones that Sunfire priests held. He immediately recognised Claudia by her clothing and hair… and that staff gave off a bad feeling in the pits of his stomach. She drew a purple rune in the air with it.

“ _Noctu Igne_!” She shouted and from her staff a large purple fireball formed… exactly the one he saw her do when him and Rayla defended Pyrrah… only this one looked bigger and deadlier. He sheathed his sword.

“Brace yourselves!” Francis shouted as he saw her cast that ball straight at their line, completely disregarding her own soldiers that were in the way. Francis heard the devastating sound of her spell exploding and suddenly he felt his feet leave the ground as he spun in the air. It happened so quick that he immediately felt the heavy pull of the ground beneath him as the ringing sound and sharp pain snapped into his mind. Everything went black.

* * *

Callum gasped at the horrifying scene that took below him. Thousands of people from both armies were tossed and decimated to the side, some to never get up again. A large gap right in the middle of their line formed, impossible to fill in. They were cut open right through the middle, as a small crater and a fire that burned purple remained where Claudia’s spell made the impact. He saw the orange glowing soldiers slowly get up from their daze as they prepared to rush right through the gaping hole… and yet they stood still, absolutely stunned.

Callum saw one man quickly get up from that devastating spell. He stumbled as quickly as he could right to the centre of that gap and although he didn’t look even, his cape remained straight and steadfast, as the golden letter G shone brightly from the sunrays that managed to prevail over the thick cover of clouds. Callum turned to stone, as he watched with widening eyes what the man did next.

“Francis! Noooooo!” He bellowed.

* * *

Francis quickly regained consciousness, as the ringing sound flooded his ears. Everything in his head was chaos… what even happened? Yep, he definitely fell on his bad side again, the overbearing pain let him know that. What else did he recall? Battle… shields… Claudia… fireball… the line! He quickly got to his feet, ignoring the pain that he became accustomed to. Still seeing double, Francis stumbled over, his knees occasionally buckling and making him fall on them. He used his hand to push himself up and unsheathed his sword to help him walk a few more metres, until he was right in the middle of the newly formed gap.

He struck the Last Stand stance, making sure that the stomp of his front foot and the clap of his bloodied hand against his other that held the sword’s hilt was loud enough to be heard through the ringing in his ears. He screamed the loudest battle cry, making the opposing soldiers halt their advance.

“Come on!” He waved his arm, as his body wobbled from side to side. “You’ve got a breakthrough, come on in!” He challenged them, at the top of his cracking voice, raising the sword’s hilt from his hip up to his ear. His hands were shaking, but his vision was getting better, as adrenaline dulled the pain away.

He could see the orange soldiers smirk creepily, as they looked complacently at him. Francis glanced behind him, his head still throbbing through the subdued noises. His shoulders dropped, as he accidentally lowered his sword. He was the only one standing at the line’s breach. His allies needed a little more time to recover and get back up… and since he was the only one still standing, then he would be the one to buy them that time.

Feeling more or less recovered himself, he looked back at the orange monsters and raised his sword back up again. “Oh, you think I’m scared of you?” Francis scoffed, barely hearing himself. “I’ll show how scared I am of you.” He said quietly, as he gripped his sword tighter.

With those words, Francis sprinted straight at them. _Francis, you absolute crazy maniac,_ he thought to himself… at least his thoughts were clear. All he heard was his loud breaths, as he ran; all he saw were the totally startled faces of the orange eyed soldiers, as some even backed away. Francis made sure the first person in his way would get it so hard, that the person would wish he was never born. He jumped in the air, straightening his leg, as it sore right into the soldier’s face.

 _Crack!_ The sounds came crashing back to him at the impact. His knee landed right onto the soldier’s stomach and as soon as it did, he quickly rolled away from two blades trying to slice at his head. He straightened a little too quickly as his side caved in and his knee buckled, forcing Francis to backtrack.

Amidst the thunderous sounds of weapons clashing, Francis made his stance firm, loud and clear. Many soldiers decided they didn’t have any interest in dealing with him after that, as they rushed right past him into the breach, but there were three that didn’t look particularly discouraged. Thankfully, their rage made them a little sloppy. The left soldier’s grip was atrocious as Francis with a swooping kick sent her weapon flying. He followed it up with another kick, this time to her chest to send her crashing into the path of the oncoming soldiers. Francis blocked the next incoming strike from above and with his free hand, grabbed the attacker’s wrist and through gritted teeth, used his back to push the soldier into the other one.

Francis turned around and ran back towards the breach, he didn’t want to be separated from his allies, as the ‘human’ armies slowly overwhelmed them. He managed to help one of the elves that was being over powered by kicking the aggressor in the side. He threw his sword at another orange glowing soldier, who looked capable and eager, and the hilt made connection with his head, rendering him out of commission for the fight. Francis got to his blade and tried to help others but the more he looked around the more people he saw were struggling… too many were staring death in the eyes.

The fire burned around him, the sonorous striking of metal, mixed with the painful guttural cries overloaded his hearing, as the sweat evaporated off of him almost as soon as it came. He almost felt lost and conflicted, he couldn’t make his mind up where to go, as chaos bubbled and burned around him. He saw Janai in her enflamed and enraged mode, facing off a tall and bulky human, three times her size, in Neolandian royal clothes. Despite Francis knowing that he was a human, little of it was left in his transformed state, as his hunched back and loud groans made him look like an ugly beast. They were beating each other down, as they exchanged brutal punches. Surprisingly, neither looked like they were too badly affected, possibly being somewhat healed by the healing capabilities of the Sun’s magic. Although, the monster’s punches looked more disastrous due to the overwhelming size.

The soldiers he just helped were already in trouble again. Everything was crumbling around him, as two soldiers with evil and raging orange eyes jumped at him at the same time. As if the world wanted to make things difficult, they kicked him at his hurtful side, as his body leant backwards like a twig in the wind. Their spear and sword sliced at anything that trudged too slowly after his normally precise and graceful body movement. He felt their blades scorch his thigh and shoulder, as he shuddered backwards again.

Riding high on adrenaline and his unyielding determination, he roared in defiance and went relentlessly at them. He snapped the metal spear in half with his sword, cracking the armour with the following impact of his foot and sending the soldier in the air. He parried the incoming sword from slaying his side, grabbed the soldier by his chest armour and punched him with the protruding side of his hilt. The soldier’s jaw did not look pretty after that.

“Help!” Francis heard, as his foot reflexively stepped backwards and he turned, ready to rush headfirst towards the cries. “We’ve got help!”

“Woo! Dragon friends!” Francis thought that was Soren’s voice.

“Ezran and Ibis made it… just in time.” Francis uttered relief, as the elves cheered and with newfound hope rushed ahead. His relief immediately dropped however when he saw that all of the dragons were going to rain fire upon the enemy. “No!” He shouted. “You can’t fight fire with fire, it will only make the fire stronger!” But it was too late.

They set the crater and everything beyond the line ablaze, as plumes of smoke rose, obscuring everything beyond the front line. The last thing Francis remembered seeing before the smoke curtain was the purple protective shield that Claudia put up to cover herself, Viren and one other person. He also distinctly saw Viren give Claudia some kind of hand gesture… some sort of a signal.

Francis waited anxiously as a moment of an anticipating silence burdened the battle. He heard roaring… but it wasn’t the dragons. Out of the smoky curtain and raging fire the ‘human’ army re-emerged, their eyes glowing brighter and their demeanour looking hulky. Francis groaned, as he raised his sword again, ignoring the scorching sensation of his drying cuts and the wailing in his side. He and the rest of the Sunfire elves ploughed on, but at least this time they had dragons.

“No!” He heard Soren shout, with a definite hitch in his voice. His ribs must have been on the edge right about now. “Don’t land!”

Francis looked around, as he saw a pair of dragons awkwardly lying on the ground. Around their wings, necks and bodies were chains. _Of course they had ballistae to chain the dragons down,_ Francis grumbled.

“Stay in the air!” Soren urged again.

“We need to take out those ballistae!” Francis shouted. “I’ll go for the one on the right.”

“Are you crazy? Have you lost the will to live?” Soren retorted. “They are so far deep into the enemy’s lines!”

“I’m not mad, Soren!” Francis shouted firmly, as sweaty steam came from the both of them. “Someone has to take them out!”

“No! Not that!” Soren waved his hand dismissively, then he reiterated. “You wanting to do that on your own! That’s suicide!”

“Bring too many with you and they’ll know what we’re trying to do!” Francis pointed out, turning around to go head first towards the right ballista. “I’ll be fine, get one person to help you!”

“But… Francis!” Soren shouted after him, but Francis was done.

He ran faster than the wind, extinguishing the smaller fires he ran past. Thankfully, the monster soldiers weren’t particularly bright, despite glowing, as they fully focused on running at the lines, giving Francis a straight almost unblocked run at the ballista. He tripped a few soldiers on his way, leaving only one chasing him.

Francis quickly disabled the wooden lever system and just before the soldier’s mace greeted Francis’s back, he jumped up on the ballista. He jumped across it, letting out a betraying groan and before the soldier could follow him, he toppled the ballista on top of him, pinning him to the ground.

He ran back towards the line, dodging a few stray swings. He looked to the other ballista… it was still up. No one came even close to it. Soren and everyone were being pushed back and slowly overwhelmed again, as they took two, three, sometimes four soldiers at once. The second they dealt with the first batch of soldiers, more always followed non-stop, continuously fuelled by the blazes and flames the dragons created.

Francis quickly came up with an obvious solution to take the heat off his allies. “Hey, you ugly brutes!” He shouted as loud as he could. “Come on, I’m right here!” He hit himself in the chest. “Francis. Yeah, Him, the man who ran away and betrayed the Human Kingdoms. Aren’t you angry that a traitor lives? Who wants to be the one to kill me?” He daringly and firmly stood right in the middle of the chaos, taunting them. He saw their heads turn and their orange eyes look at him with malicious intent, their entire bodily glow flaring up.

 _I’m pushing my odds, am I not?_ He thought to himself, as he saw three… four… five… six… seven… eight… nine! Nine soldiers scramble towards him. _Come on, one more, make it a round number!_ Francis dared, disregarding the suicidal nature of his taunt. There! Oh? And there was the eleventh soldier, lagging way behind. Forget about the Pentarchy tournament, forget about the four to one Francis faced earlier on his journey and them being outnumbered ten to one right now. It was eleven to one right now! Their angered orange looks didn’t deign Francis even with the slimmest chance of survival.

“I like those odds.” Francis disagreed. He gritted his teeth and gripped his bloodied hilt harder, as he made the first move. Sparks were coming off the swords as he clashed with three people at once, setting what little dry grass remained around them ablaze. Francis struck harder so the sparks would be directed right at his target’s face. It worked. The first soldier flinched backwards and it was enough for Francis to quickly squeeze by and clash with the soldier behind him. He drove the first soldier at the other two with his foot and then unceremoniously jumped on the chest of the second one. Francis was not taking any chances, as he fell on his elbow at the third soldier’s face and also kicked the previous one in the face as he rolled away.

He felt heavier when he tried to straighten up, as his body curled to the side and constricted his movement. The adrenaline was wearing off, as the blood continued to trickle out of his scorched shoulder and thigh. His side was becoming a bigger hindrance. Francis knew he had to get creative. He stepped on something metallic. He glanced down… a shield… and another one behind him. Francis used his feet to make it slide into the path of the oncoming fourth soldier, making him slip and fall flat on his face, holding the others’ advance back. Seeing that one of the soldiers made his way around the obstacle quicker that Francis would have liked, he flipped the sword and threw it, so that the hilt would meet the soldier’s jaw, buying Francis more time. He quickly picked up the shield behind him and put it up to save his life.

Francis heard four distinct impacts on the metal… phew, another close call. He pushed the four aggressors back, even managing to make two of them fall backwards, to give himself some breathing room. He noticed that one of the eleven soldiers went to pick his sword up… which just wasn’t going to happen. Keeping his shield up to block a stray shot, he did what he saw General Amaya do many times, a move he thought suited her completely and found admirable. He smacked the jaw of the soldier with his shield, sending him far away from the sword he nearly laid his hands on. Having had enough time spent with an obscured vision, something he despised shields for, he threw it at the seventh soldier’s chest. He felt the warmth of the impact radiate off of the soldier’s heated body as he fell, winded.

Francis walked fearlessly and decisively forward, twisting his sword menacingly, whilst hiding the limp of his wailing side, towards the next soldier. He was the first one to look shook at the prospect that Francis might actually pull this off, so it wasn’t hard to disarm him with a few twists of his sword. Knowing the soldier was intimidated, Francis stomped his foot and the soldier ran away. Eight down; three to go.

Just as he was about to square up with the ninth soldier, he only saw him and one more still stalking behind… where was the third one? The answer came very quickly when he felt his cape being pulled backwards. Francis immediately saw red in his eyes, as his backfoot drew further back and he shifted his weight lower, twisting around. He swung his sword blindly at where his cape was being touched. He saw a pair of hands drop to the ground in front of him, as the soldier that tried to use his cape looked with horror at what was left of his hands.

“Nobody touches my cape without my permission!” Francis told him off with a cold steely tone in his voice. He watched the soldier’s face become amazed, as he saw his hands suddenly grow back to their normal size. Francis was as equally taken aback by the regeneration as the soldier was, only he wasn’t too happy about it.

 _Of course, they grow back. What, they’re immortal now too? Why did Sunfire magic had to have Healing Light?_ Francis rued. The soldier cracked his new hands and looked vengefully at Francis. He cut the soldier’s grin and boasting short, as Francis kicked the hands he cut off right into his face and followed it up with a devastating punch that made the soldier do a backflip in the air.

Feeling more and more chained by the overbearing pain and the seeping blood that burned his skin, Francis couldn’t stop panting. Too slow and sloppy to reset himself, he heard a battle cry approach from behind him. Francis instinctively turned and put his sword up to block it, his other hand holding the blade. The impact of that block sent a shock down his side, that debilitated him further, in fact, paralysing him from doing any offensive manoeuvres.

Francis wrestled against a giant brute and all he could do was match his power, in order to prevent himself from falling over. The brute’s angry and hungry orange eyes peered down at him, as a malicious grin surfaced on his face. His pulsating orange hand reached out to his wrist that held the sword’s hilt and grabbed it tightly. Francis let out a loud pained scream, as the brute’s grip burned his flesh. He could smell the distinct odour of singed hair coming from his forearm. Francis absolutely refused to drop his sword. He had no choice but to endure the horrible scorching pain, as a malignant smile erupted on the brute’s face. The only thing Francis could do was to try and flail his front foot in hopes of dislodging the brute’s stance.

Francis barely registered that he made contact with the brute’s knee cap, shifting him lower and closer to the ground. One more guessing kick and the brute fell on his knees, holding his crotch. The unexpected and rapid shift in balance, made Francis stumble forward, as he tried his best not to collapse to the ground, his creaking side making it difficult for him. That was when the last one pounced. The eleventh soldier. The one at the back. The one who stalked. He picked the perfect opportunity. He ran right at the vulnerably careened Francis. Feeling and seeing the impending lethal blow coming, Francis was too out of breath and in too much pain to defend himself from it. Without really giving it as much of a thought, he raised his sword at the last soldier, just as a last ditch effort.

He wasn’t even looking when it happened. The undeniable force that jerked his hand towards him. Francis stared up. His sword was covered in blood, but it wasn’t just his anymore. Thrust into the soldier’s stomach was the buried tip of his blade. Francis’s eyes went wide, as he saw the glow on the soldier beginning to dim and the soldier was falling.

 _Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock!_ His mind was being barraged at. Francis quickly caught the soldier before he fell. The soldier was holding onto his stomach, desperately trying to stop the blood from gushing away. The knocking at Francis’s door grew in his mind. The soldier’s hands were turning back to normal fleshy colours. His breath was becoming hitched.

“No! Please, no! Don’t go! Stay! Stay with me!” Francis’s voice shook, just as his free hand was. He was on his knees holding him up by his back. He looked down into those orange eyes, they were darting around looking frightened, as his face stopped glowing entirely. His eyes welled up with tears, his body was becoming colder and more still. Finally, the begging orange eyes looked up into Francis’s, they were afraid… and then the orange light dimmed completely, as the last of his monstrous outlook that Viren gave him disappeared, plunging Francis’s eyes and face into a dark shadow.

 _You finally did it,_ Francis heard Tana’s snarling voice and scornful cackle. _Why couldn’t you do the same to that Sunfire elf we’ve captured? Instead before you ran away, you freed and helped her escape in the night._

Francis had the body of a pale, young and brown-eyed lad in his hands, with a messy tuft of hair sticking at the front of his helmet. He had a soft moustache and a little birthmark under his ear. At the end of everything… he was still a human.

 _You swore to not kill_ , she continued laughing at the irony, looking down at him. _You stood up to me, saying that you won’t make the easy and blind choice. All for what? So that you can do it anyway to a human?_

Francis’s head began to twitch ominously, uncontrollably and angrily, as his fingers clawed into his palms, making more blood stream out of his scar. Francis could barely hear Tana’s voice through the knocking, but no matter how much he didn’t want to hear her, she still managed to get to him. He could feel her raise her bladed staff overhead, ready to slay him.

_Look at yourself… in doing what you thought was ‘right’, you have become a monster yourself._

Francis sharply raised his sword, blindly blocking the incoming strike. He let out an anguished scream and in a fit of rage, disarmed the soldier who dared to attack him and beat the living daylights out of him, making the soldier’s grime and sweat fly off of him with each devastating punch. Francis flipped the defeated soldier onto his back, as he raised his sword above him ready to plunge it into the soldier’s still beating heart.

The soldier’s glow lit up Francis entirely, as he himself looked completely orange amidst his raged stance. He hovered, his hands were shaking. He panted like a maniac, feeling like his cape was trying to hold him, stop him. His sword wasn’t coming down, as he stood still in this position, his sweat making him look like the orange light was coming off him.

 _Bang! Bang!! Bang!!!_ He heard the door in his head being pounded away, before Tana spoke once more. _I always knew you were a stone cold killer at heart, look how naturally it comes to you, look how it suits you. After doing it once, it’s not as hard to do it again._

Francis let out a bellowing scream as his sword came down… it plunged right into the ground… to Francis’s side and away from the beaten up soldier. His breath was quick and ragged, as he felt the backlash of his rage through his side and several open wounds. He wasn’t left standing alone for too long, as another soldier charged at him, thinking Francis was distracted. Francis, despite the burning pain it caused him, caught the incoming attack with his left hand and punched the soldier right in the liver with his other. He then grabbed the back of the soldier’s head that jerked forwards from the punch, and kneed him right into his face, making him recoil backwards into unconsciousness.

Unable to contain the pain anymore, Francis grunted and groaned, as he fell on his knees, one of his hands holding the side, while the other grabbed the hilt. He inhaled and exhaled deeply, allowing himself to calm down and recharge. He felt the eyes of the beaten up soldier questioningly look up at him. Francis’s piercing look from the now shadowed face was enough of a sell, as the soldier remained motionless on the ground. Francis took a few more seconds of rest, before he saw some of his comrades in need of a helping hand. He put everything he felt aside and got up to help them.

* * *

Rayla stood guard, walking up and down as if she was on a real patrol, showing how seriously she took her responsibility as The Last Dragonguard. In truth, she might have been doing that because of how drilled she was, but in reality there wasn’t really a need to do it. There was only one entrance and there was no way, she thought, anyone would be able to sneak their way up here. She continued patrolling regardless, as Zym and Bait remained lying down by the entrance to Queen Zubeia’s chambers. Her pattern was interrupted by Zym’s whimpers, as he crawled over to her feet.

“Hey, there,” she kneeled down. “It’s going to be okay, wee fella.” Zym immediately climbed up the stairs and looked worriedly in the direction of his mother’s chambers. She understood what Zym was ready to do. “I’ll go in with you, but, Zym, I don’t want you to get your hopes up.” She told him. Zym turned to look at her with his big sad puppy eyes, unsure what she exactly meant, apart from the fact that it wasn’t good. “She’s in a deep, deep slumber and I don’t think she’s waking up any time soon.” She explained.

Zym looked back in, towards where the deep sounds of snoring were coming from and bravely went in. As promised, Rayla accompanied him. Her chambers were exactly as she remembered them to be last time, everything was the same… the Dragon Queen hadn’t even budged from her sleeping spot. Zym made it to stairs before he began whimpering again. Rayla held him and descended down with him, closer to Queen Zubeia’s sleeping body.

“It’s okay, she’s your mother. You can go to her.” Rayla gave Zym the last push he needed.

He timidly approached his mother’s snout and put his front paws up on it. He whined and barked at her, pleading for her to wake up. She did not move. He then began to growl as he bit into her longer strands of the mane, pulling as hard as he could. She was still. Rayla knew that it was pointless, that she wouldn’t wake up, but it broke her heart to even think about telling him to stop… but then something started to happen… some sort of outburst. Energy started crackling off of Zym, as small rainbow coloured lightning bolts began to fly off of his body into and up Queen Zubeia’s body. Hope began to slowly bubble up in Rayla’s heart. Maybe he could wake her up, maybe they would be able to stop the army below them.

Just as hope formed however, Zym was flung backwards, as he tumbled and rolled towards Rayla, looking like he couldn’t conjure up any more energy. He looked up at his mother, seemingly to still harbour the last ounces of hope. She softly snored as peacefully as ever. He defeatedly trudged closer to her. Rayla sadly watched, as Zym climbed over her tail to finally lie down the flowerbed that was supposed to be his, but remained cold and empty all this time.

* * *

Callum looked over the plumes of smoke that came off the battlefield, covering the spots of crimson that he imagined would befall the ground. They continued to try and hold the landslide, but they had to huddle closer to the staircase as a result. Still, more ‘human’ soldiers broke through, as Callum saw some running up the steps.

“ _Aspiro!_ ” He drew the rune and blew those soldiers completely off the ledge. “Don’t even try it!” He bragged, hoping the soldiers would desist. “I got more wind where that came from.”

It wasn’t enough to desist the soldiers. Callum saw another group of soldiers to the side, unconventionally climbing the cliff wall to his position, hoping to sneak up on him. Unluckily for them, Callum spotted them.

“ _Fulminis!_ ” Callum cast the spell as soon as they climbed over the edge, sending them back down from where they came from.

In reality, Callum realised too late that those group of soldiers were a distraction. As soon as he turned back towards the battlegrounds, a massive growling monster with a hunched back appeared right in front of him. Callum was shocked that he was even able to recognise the monster in front of him. The shape of his head, his long black hair and the black clothes all pointed to the fact that this was Prince Kasef. He ran at Callum, who bolted immediately. He lunged at him and thankfully being smaller actually was better for Callum, as he was able to dodge the clumsy and hunched Kasef. Callum managed to get some distance between him and Kasef, but he didn’t anticipate Kasef to be so mobile, as he already was running at him. Callum nervously traced the rune. It felt and definitely was slower than what he would have liked… when it mattered most.

“ _Fulmi…_ ” Callum began to cast the spell, but it was cut off by his grunt as he took off after Prince Kasef’s shattering uppercut. Dazed, Callum forgot for a moment where he was, as he noticed that the cover of his sketchbook was damaged. There was a claw mark going across it. He realised too late where the claw marks came from, as he felt his throat being burned and grabbed, as he was lifted in the air. The precious oxygen was running out as he was slowly choking. He looked into Prince Kasef’s wicked grin, wishing those weren’t the last things he would get to see. Why did it have to be this and not Rayla’s?

To make matters worse, Prince Kasef thought it was necessary to finish Callum off with another punch, as he drew his free clawed hand back. It came forward… but not at Callum. It just fell to the side, as an arrow suddenly sunk through its palm. Kasef looked rather inconvenienced by the arrow and turned around to see the aggressor. When he did that, two more arrows met him: one into the bridge of his nose and the other into his chest. He dropped Callum, who immediately gasped for air, before Kasef walked a few more steps and fell over the edge.

Callum looked at his saviour and in the distance he saw a lone horse with the archer. She looked so small, that Callum thought that it was a little girl who saved him. He wasn’t sure who this young girl was, until he saw the banners and the colours of the Kingdom of Duren. His and by extension their saviour was Queen Aanya. Another banner appeared, that Callum didn’t recognise at all. It looked like a chain link sliced in half, but the cut looked so small that the chain might as well have been whole this entire time.

“Somebody asked for archers?” He exclaimed in pure elation, as he saw an arrow storm being fired upon the ‘human’ armies. He saw the orange glowing soldiers drop one by one, as the opposing numbers significantly lightened. The army of Duren rushed in. The ‘human’ army that was attacking earlier became completely encircled. They miraculously held on, until help (the second one) came. With the boost of the tides turning, the defendants ran with extra wind in their sails.

“For King Ezran!” Callum heard them all exclaim and it brought him pride and joy for his little eight year old brother. Speaking of his brother, Callum saw Pyrrah land beside him and Ezran dismounted running towards him.

“Are you okay?” Callum asked embracing him in a tight hug.

“Yeah!” Ezran replied, before pointing out. “You’ve got burn marks on your neck.”

“It’s fine.” Callum waved off. They felt really uncomfortable, but it really was fine. He would just have to pull his scarf a little further up and no one would even know.

“But otherwise, are you okay?” Ezran asked.

“This morning, I thought we were doomed,” Callum replied honestly. “Then the dragons came and I thought we would win, but then things got doomed again… but now we’re okay!”

“It sure feels great to not to be doomed!” Ezran remarked.

Yeah, it did feel good… but Callum knew that they were winning and that things weren’t doomed. He subconsciously turned around and looked through the clouds to the top of the Storm Spire. Rayla was practically all alone up there and she had no way of knowing if they won or were all dead down here.

“Go to her.” Ezran put a hand on Callum’s shoulder, breaking him out of his thinking trance.

“What?”

“Rayla,” Ezran reiterated. “It’s okay, I’ve got this.” He said with an understanding tone in his voice as he climbed up Pyrrah again.

“I am so proud of you.” Callum finally said.

“I know,” he replied with a cheeky smile. Callum snorted quietly and then ran up the stairs to Rayla.

* * *

His arms felt leaden and everything below his lower back felt chaining, as each step he took was heavy. He never felt the ground pull him so hard before, just like he never felt this sore and clumsy before. The world however was merciful to Francis this time; it didn’t need him, or anyone else for that matter, to perform another arduous task or something beyond a miracle. The battle was finally over, as afternoon approached and the ‘human’ army surrendered. They could relax, they could rest. Francis ran his hand through his forelock, before he let his hands dangle and his shoulders sag.

“You,” he heard a female voice refer to him and Francis immediately straightened up. “We need to tend to your wounds.”

“No, I’m fine,” Francis told the Sunfire elf medic. She stared at him dubiously. “I’ll be fine.” he reassured.

“Have you seen yourself in a mirror?”

“No,” Francis replied earnestly, before mumbling. “And water reflections aren’t reliable enough.”

“You are caked in your own blood!” She exclaimed. “You have a burn mark on your hand, two viciously wide cuts and you are limping!”

“Look, none of it is going to kill me,” Francis remained stubborn. “I can walk and all of that can be dealt with later.”

“At least, take this,” she insisted, producing willow bark out of her medical bag.

“No, others need it more.” Francis rejected.

“No need to keep trying; he’s staunchly selfless.” Francis heard an all too familiar voice. “It is admirable, but it does get annoying sometimes.”

“Marcos,” Francis felt happiness surge into him. Marcos was beaming at him in his Katolis Commander armour, looking only a little beaten up. Francis walked to him as if he wasn’t totally exhausted, picking up speed with each step he took, until he was jogging. Marcos’s armour clanked as they hugged, both clapping each other on the back.

“Make sure he takes these,” he heard the Sunfire medic behind him hand over the willow bark. Francis only felt Marcos nod.

“It’s great to see you again, alive and well.” Marcos told him with an exhale.

“That’s wishful thinking if you think you can get rid of me that easily.” Francis chuckled. “I see you received a promotion since last time. That look suits you, buddy.”

“I learn from the best.” Marcos stated.

“You do know you outrank me now?” Francis snorted. He didn’t technically possess any ranks, so any Katolis soldier had a higher rank than Francis ever did.

“That doesn’t matter, you showed me how to be better and how to make others better. You showed me how to lead, but most importantly you remained a friend to me all this time.” Marcos hugged him tighter, cherishing this moment.

“I’m glad I was able to help and inspire you,” Francis said. “But you made yourself, Marcos.” He smiled at him.

Marcos nodded at him in gratitude. “Well, you look like you just fought an entire army by yourself.” He joked.

“You look a little roughened up, too.” Francis exchanged.

“Yeah, Sabah, she is a Sunfire elf soldier, was kind enough to help me get to my feet.” Marcos laughed. “I also heard a lot of praise headed your way.”

“From who?” Francis shook his head, befuddled. “I didn’t do anything out of the ordinary…”

“Enough of your modesty, Francis.” Marcos scoffed and turned to lead him. “It’s not just anyone who is saying that. By the way, I was ordered to give you these.” He gave him the willow bark. Francis sighed and took them, putting it in his pocket instead of consuming them. Marcos didn’t react as he led him towards the other leaders.

Francis saw Gren and General Amaya discussing… or rather, gesturing about how she survived the explosion at The Breach, whilst Ezran, Janai and Soren discussed helping the wounded and the chained dragons.

“I have to say, it does feel better to be on the side that’s unchaining things.” Soren remarked. Soren… the one who had a dream of slaying a dragon and chained one over a week ago. How things have changed…

“Ah, there you are,” Janai noticed him. “Francis, the man who stood back up, the man who held the line. Your bravery is unparalleled and your aggression is admirable, there is Sunfire elf blood in you.”

“You call it bravery and aggression; I would call it foolhardiness and desperation.” Francis joked.

“Oh my, Francis, are you okay?” Ezran ran over to him.

“I’m fine, Ez,” Francis kneeled, granting him a hug. “We won, that’s all that matters.”

“Considering what I heard, it came at a great cost.” Ezran told him solemnly. “You are going to kill yourself one day doing something like that.”

“Yeah, Rayla mentioned something about that. But I haven’t killed myself,” Francis disagreed. “I also had faith in myself. I had do it and most importantly I knew I could do it… and I did.” Francis’s face twitched slightly, but didn’t grimace, as he hid the grim soreness his body was putting him through.

“I always knew you weren’t a coward and I’m glad that after all this time you were strong willed and had the strongest of convictions. That you remained faithful to yourself and what you believed in,” Francis heard Gren speak, meaning that General Amaya was signing. “And whilst the battle is won, I’m still worried. This isn’t over until we find Viren. He cannot slip from our grasp.” Gren finished with the same firmness as General Amaya’s signing.

“I’ve already sent out a search party,” Janai said. “We won’t let him get away.”

Francis frowned as he noticed Ezran look into the distance with narrow eyes. “Ezran?”

“I thought I saw something,” Ezran waved off. “Anyways, I’m going to see if anyone needs help.” He said eagerly. As ever, the boy had a kind heart.

“Sure thing,” Francis said as he let Ezran go. “And if you excuse me, I would like to catch up with Marcos. It seems that we have a lot to fill in.”

“ _You are dismissed_.” Amaya signed with a warm smile on her face and Francis thanked her.

“So,” Marcos sat down with Francis to the side. “How did you cross the border?”

“By walking.” Francis replied wryly.

“Very funny, but seriously how?”

“There is a way, but it can only be done at night with the moon’s light. The path is called the Moonstone path.” Francis replied. “Your turn, if The Breach was destroyed, how did you cross into Eastern Xadia?”

“With Corvus’s help, we followed Viren’s army. They forged a path of their own… somehow.” Marcos trailed into pensive silence, scratching the back of his head. Eventually he continued. “I must say, we had to almost jog the entire way here to catch up with his army.”

“Yeah, you all made it just in time.”

“How many soldiers did you have?” Marcos asked.

“Not nearly as many as Viren had, but before I tell you about that, do you mind grabbing me some water? My throat is parched.”

“Sure thing. I have some with the supplies I brought, I just need to get to them. I’ll be back in a moment.” Marcos got up and walked away.

Francis let his body loosen up, giving into the heaviness of the ground’s pull. He felt himself slowly drift away, even if it wasn’t too long since Marcos left… but something triggered his brain, something snapped him back into full alertness. A strange heavy feeling… and then…

“Drop your staff, father!” He managed to hear… just about. That was definitely Soren’s voice… in the distance. Francis sat up, that could only mean one thing! Francis immediately sprung to his feet, already forgetting that his side… well, his entire body actually, wasn’t in great shape. He buckled over and crumpled on the floor, but forced himself back up straight away, despite everything. He ran with a limp towards the voices.

“I am the Crown Guard and he is the true king.” Soren’s voice grew closer. Ezran must have lied about not seeing anything or at the very least he might have mistaken it for something else.

Francis picked his pace up. “I will do whatever necessary to protect his life, because now I know what the right thing to do is.”

“Soren, wait!” Francis heard Claudia’s voice. He continued running with gritted teeth. “You’re making a mistake!” Francis heard a brief pause, it spurred him on to reach and help Soren quicker. He felt awful by only hearing what was happening, rather than seeing it.

“Lay down your staff… and surrender.” Soren ordered. His voice was just behind the corner of this rock, just out of everyone’s way.

Francis suddenly heard Claudia gasp and then he heard something metallic drop. His heart stopped. This was awful. What happened? He turned the corner. Viren was stumbling backwards, with blood on his white robes and his staff on the ground. He fell backwards. Soren was standing with his sword up and Ezran was looking distressed by his side.

“How could you?” Claudia uttered.

Soren dropped his sword and then dropped to his knees. Francis realised what he had done. Soren wasn’t lying when he said he would do anything necessary to protect the king; he had slain his own father. It went dark for a split moment in Francis’s eyes, as if a dark shadow passed over him.

“I… I had no choice,” Soren said solemnly. Francis quickly made his way to him and got in front of him to block his view from Viren’s corpse, trying to support him.

“Why would he try to hurt me, when it was so clear he couldn’t win?” Ezran pondered.

“Wait,” Francis suddenly jerked straight, feeling off. “Why _did_ he try to hurt you, if he was after the Dragon Prince and the Dragon Queen?” The silence made Francis feel worse by the millisecond. He looked around and what he saw made him worry and question everything even more. “Soren… why is your blade clean? Where is Viren’s blood?”

“Oh, you always were the clever one, weren’t you?” Francis heard Claudia behind him. “You really think the battle is over?” Francis rose to his feet, as he stared wide eyed into Claudia’s cold eyes. “The real battle was never down here.”

“You used them as pawns,” Francis said, looking at her with disgust. “You have unnecessarily sacrificed so many lives!”

“That’s what pawns are for,” she said, totally unflinching and detached. “It was done for the greater good.”

“Some greater good this is.” Francis replied sarcastically, grimacing.

“Yes,” Claudia replied. “They made sure that you were all distracted from the real battle that took place.” As she said that, Viren’s body disappeared and Moonmoths remained in his place… this was an illusion all this time.

“Where is he?” Soren demanded angrily. Claudia only smirked derisively at him.

“Oh no!” Ezran suddenly exclaimed, holding onto his head with his eyes closed. “Zym is in danger! Viren has Rayla trapped in ice!”

The banging returned. Francis’s mind and body howled at him, as he slowly felt ice cold fury run in his veins, dulling everything else. He sprinted to the main battlegrounds.

“Francis, wait!” He heard Ezran and Soren chase after him. “Where are you going?”

“To the nearest dragon.” He shouted, as he approached one. “Come on, we need to go up! This isn’t over!” The soldiers began to look at him questioningly.

“Francis, he’s too tired.” Ezran said, looking at the dragon that didn’t even budge nor look in Francis’s direction.

“We all need to go up the Spire, the Dragon Prince is in danger!” He screamed so that everyone could hear them.

“Francis, none of the animals are fit enough to fly right now.” Ezran told him again. Francis let out an ireful scream, his fingers clawed in anger. The world really wanted him to suffer more, just when he thought everything was done.

“We have to get back up there,” he shook, trembled even. “The battle is not over! We can lose right now, right at the end! We have to put a little more effort in, otherwise it would have all been for nothing!”

“Francis, no one can keep going anymore, we gave everything and more in that battle!” Soren told him.

“That’s not good enough!” Francis spat sharply.

“We just need a little more time.” Soren pleaded with him.

“There is no time!” Francis was adamant.

“So what do you propose then? You can barely stand up straight yourself!” Soren argued. Francis gave him an indignant look.

“Ezran, get up there as soon as you can!” He told him firmly, before looking back at Soren. “What do I propose?” Francis took out willow bark and shoved it into his mouth. “Not giving up.” He turned and sprinted as hard as he could up the steps, ignoring the stares and Ezran’s and Soren’s voices that fruitlessly tried to make him reconsider.

* * *

“Your mother can’t protect you now.” Rayla watched with horror as Viren grinned cruelly at a cowering Zym. He looked completely withered and a huge caterpillar coiled around his body, which added to his evil outlook and intentions. “So still. So perfect.” Viren continued. Rayla was trying her best to break out of the ice, but her bottom half and her left arm were firmly stuck. “I’ll harvest her later, but first I am going to consume you.” Viren was reaching out to Zym and just as he was about to grab him, Bait jumped in and flashed, blinding Viren.

“Zym, run!” Rayla told him and Zym wasted no time in flying away as fast as he could, out through the main entrance.

Once Viren gained his vision back, he bitterly struck Bait, making him fly into the side of the wall and leaving him unconscious. “You haven’t saved him!” He turned to her. “You’ve done nothing but create a brief inconvenience for me.” Rayla looked at him with disdain, as she grunted, trying to break free her other hand that still held her blade. “I will return for you later,” Viren said, removing a pouch from his pocket. “It will be a pleasure to add one more Moonshadow elf to my collection.” He dangled the pouch in front of her, a sound of jingling coins came out of it. Rayla didn’t know what he meant by that and she certainly didn’t like the sound of it, but she remained composed and defiant.

She watched Viren walk away, as she struggled against the ice. Something snapped and her other arm was free. She immediately began to chip away at the ice around her torso, as each strike sent painful vibrations up her hands.

“Come on, Rayla! You can’t give up now!” She relentlessly chipped away, until she couldn’t lift her hand, it was that painful. She heard lightning strike outside, but it wasn’t raining. Zym must have used his lightning spell again; he was in trouble. She continued to hit harder, she was so close to dislodging herself, she needed a few dozen more hits. She struck a couple of times, before it was too much for her hand, as it recoiled back and she almost dropped her sword. She panted giving herself a little more time to recover, but before she continued, she heard Bait croak. He had a torch in his mouth, as he limped to her.

“Bait!” She exclaimed, as she grabbed the torch out of his mouth, once he was close enough. “You’re my hero!” She started work on melting some of the ice away immediately. Bait chirped in response and then once again when she broke free of the ice and tumbled to the ground.

She didn’t waste a second in sprinting out of the chambers and outside. She saw Zym, way above her, closer to the pinnacle, flying away. She felt relief; they were fine… but only for a moment. She heard a vile sounding chant coming from the pinnacle, as corrupting purple light reached out and grabbed Zym, pulling him right back. Rayla desperately sprinted up the stairs, clearing four, five steps at a time. When she reached the top, she saw rainbow coloured lights, like life essence, coming off of Zym into Viren’s staff.

“Yes! So much power surging into me!” She heard him exclaim, as she closed the distance down. She was putting an end to this right now. His back was to her. She leapt at him. She saw the caterpillar turn around, seeing her, but it was fine as long as Viren was taken care of… but her blades never reached him. Viren raised his hand in her direction without even looking and she was suddenly briefly suspended in the air, as her blades were flung backwards and she dropped on her feet to the ground. She was left empty handed… now what?

_“Maybe those soldiers in Katolis were never supposed to defect and maybe Soren, despite being weak and useless, wasn’t supposed to leave you, but the stars still foresaw our victory and they won’t be mistaken again for the third time in a row. She won’t be able to stop us anymore; she can’t do anything. They were all useless and weak for us and they have no right to be a part of us.” Aaravos thought, feeling triumphant, as all the power from the Dragon Prince, surged mostly through his staff into him. He would finally be free from his prison. “This is it, we have won.” He told Viren._

“You are too late,” Viren relayed to Rayla, not even deigning her with a look, as his other hand reached closer to the rainbow coloured essence, trying to collect it. “I’ve already won.”

 _Over my dead body, I’m The Last Dragonguard!_ Rayla thought, as she searched desperately for a way out. _Come on, think, Rayla, think!_ Suddenly, she started to remember. Francis’s voice came to her.

 _Ledge to the right, always a danger if the opponent’s back is to it or is unaware of it,_ she recalled. They were right at the pinnacle... and Francis already complained about how there were no safety barriers. Now, however, that would end up as something that would save them. Keeping in mind how Francis kept telling her to always use her surrounding environment to her advantage, she would now put that lesson to good use… at last.

* * *

Callum was running up the stairs, as he heard thunder and commotion coming from the pinnacle. Feeling uneasy about the whole situation he sped up, until he was sprinting as fast as he could. He saw a blade land and stick into the ground in front of him… it was Rayla’s. He looked up to see her stand before Viren, as he sucked out the essence out of Zym, using his Dark Magic. Callum was panicking, he needed to get up there and help her, help them.

He was about to clear the last few steps, when his eyes went wide in horror.

“No!” He shouted, his hand trying to reach out to Rayla, who was too far away. He saw her run at Viren and tackle him over the edge, going over with him. He hadn’t stopped running, as he came up to the edge himself. “No, no, no! Rayla!” He shouted after her, as she disappeared into the clouds.

Through tears, Callum swallowed hard. Down below there was absolutely nothing. The clouds at the bottom swallowed everything, including Viren and Rayla, who would even get a chance to see the ground… to react in time. His body was frozen in its place, chained by fear… uncertainty… doubt. The longer he waited the further Rayla was falling as she probably made peace with her mind. There was no one to catch him this time. He had only himself to rely on… and he had a way of pulling this off… even if it didn’t work the previous time. He had to take the leap… saving her, trying to save her, was worth everything to him. Callum gulped the chaining thoughts away, his bravery growing and his sense of self-preservation shrinking. He decisively threw his sketchbook to the side. He knew what to do.

* * *

  
  
Burning. Everything was burning. His ragged breathing as he sprinted, scorched his parched throat. His body tore itself apart, as Francis forced it to continue running. The potential problem of thin air didn’t even occur to him when he started, but now he placed all hope on the fact that Callum’s Last Breath spell had a long lasting effect.

He was at odds with Viren’s army, now he was fighting against his own body. It was sloppy, clumsy, heavy and lacked the usual precision and grace that was characteristic to Francis. It almost felt alien, as it did it utmost best to stop Francis. He tripped on the stairs, but Francis reflexively stuck his hands out and used the forward falling momentum to push himself up the steps, before lifting his back again. His stomach couldn’t take it anymore as Francis threw up. He wiped his mouth and continued sprinting like nothing ever happened. He ran and ran and ran. It seemed that Callum’s spell did have a long lasting effect.

He was getting so close to the top, he crossed the bridge and already began to sprint his way up to the pinnacle... he suddenly felt a familiar heartbeat. Quick like his own, but it was not his. He looked above him to see to his grief an all too familiar shape of a white haired elf in black and teal outfit, falling. She pushed away someone in all white... Viren, it must have been.  
“Nooooo!” Francis fell on his knees, letting out an anguished scream. His hand reached out over the edge like he had a chance to catch her, but it was nothing more than wishful thinking. Francis panted, feeling unbearably weak all over his body, as he watched Rayla slowly become a dot that disappeared into the cloudy abyss... another heartbeat followed. He saw a blue line with something akin to a red scarf fly down after Rayla.  
“Callum! You crazy...” Francis let out a heart-breaking scream. “You better do it! You hear me? You better do it!”

Falling. Tears were falling down his cheek, as he watched his life, a part of him, disappear away into the clouds. After everything, they have been through, he wouldn’t even get to have them to celebrate and be with them afterwards.

 _Bang!!! Bang!!! Bang!!!_ The door was threatened to be demolished, torn completely off the hinges.

His face contorted uncontrollably, unable to swallow anymore. He shut his eyes, holding his head in his hands and over his ears, as Francis’s body faltered completely, caving in on itself and forming a ball. The knocking was screaming, roaring, slamming in his face, demolishing him entirely.

 _You seem to try to do good things, have good intentions, be better, but they always backfire,_ Tana laughed. _Give up! What you do doesn’t work._

“Shut up!” He screamed. “Don’t you dare use my words against me! I will not give up! I am right and I know it!”

 _You killed a person… those two are dead because of you… how can you be right? How can you consider yourself a good person after that?_ Tana cackled.

Francis wailed in anguish, as he punched the stone ground beneath him as hard as he could, denting it and cutting his knuckles up. The banging stopped… the cackling stopped…

“I will not cave into making the easy choice here! I will not cave into you and let you mislead me, because that is not me!” Francis decreed, crawling up the stairs whilst ignoring his hurt body. “I will stand by my choices and always learn from them, because it is who I am.” He rose to his feet unevenly and wobbled up the steps. “I will continue doing what’s right… even if it costs me everything. And if you stand in my way like a fort then I will pity you, because I will go through it, head first, destroying everything in my way.”

He trudged defeatedly up to the pinnacle, picking Rayla’s blades on the way and hanging his head in shame, as his body burned up. He forced himself to make it all the way to the pinnacle before he simply couldn’t stand anymore. He crawled over to the lying body of Zym and watched his chest with a held breath.

“Oh, you’re alive… at least you’re alive, Zym.” Francis stroke his mane, before biting back tears. “I’m glad that we won, that you’ve made it, but they haven’t… did we truly win, then?” He hugged Zym’s body, as some form of comfort, but it wasn’t helping. “After everything, you’re alive Zym and I am so, so glad that on the biggest day in recent history we prevailed… but I will never be able to stop seeing them in you…”

Francis saw Viren’s staff lying on the ground, that irked him so much that he threw it over the edge, letting out an ireful grunt. Tears kept falling down, as Francis saw Callum’s sketchbook on the ground. It landed in such a way, that a sketch of Rayla was open on it. Francis grabbed it carefully, as he flipped the pages, quickly recounting the story of the entire journey. All him and Ezran had left of Callum was his sketchbook… their entire time spent in Eastern Xadia before Ezran arrived, still untold to him. Now of Callum’s perspective only drawings remained.

Francis couldn’t look anymore… it was too painful. His eyes stopped at a drawing going across two pages, which had a name scribbled in the top corner… ‘An Uphill Struggle’, it read. Francis covered his eyes, as he couldn’t stop sobbing, his breath so ragged that Francis felt like he was choking. His tears just kept falling and falling and falling, splatting across the stone ground… it didn’t stop, it couldn’t stop. Yet, something did make Francis stop... something he heard. Did he imagine it? He carefully listened again.

 _Da-dum. Da-dum. Da-dum_ … was that a heartbeat?

 _Thum-Thump. Thum-Thump. Thum-Thump_ … two heartbeats?

* * *

The opposing wind sobered his face, as Callum never felt it hit him with such ferocity before. It made him panic slightly, but he quickly threw everything aside as he focused solely on Rayla. She was twisting and turning violently in the air, slowing her down a little. Callum straightened his body vertically down and reached both of his arms towards Rayla.

 _“Manus, Pluma, Volantus!”_ Callum said the trigger words, his heart beating madly. Nothing was happening. “Oh, please work, please work,” he uttered unevenly, looking pleadingly at his hands. “ _Manus, Pluma, Volantus!_ ” Nothing happened. It wasn’t working… he had nothing else up his sleeve. Callum was plummeting with Rayla straight to their impending doom… and he knew it, he jumped willingly knowing perfectly well what this could mean.

Rayla was finally facing him… and she must have noticed him, since her arm reached out to him. His mind drifted back to two moments that morning... now she would never get to know. He rued and cursed at himself for failing to tell Rayla everything he felt in those two moments. They were just so big and there was so much to say and he didn’t know how to say it or rather he didn’t want to leave or forget any details, easily overcomplicating everything. It frustrated him to not know how to put it into words, because he couldn’t quite realise what he was feeling or understand it at the very least… until it finally hit him. The answer was so simple… all along. Yes, there were many things, endless amount of things, he could say about Rayla… but in the end everything, his feelings, her beauty, the things he liked about her, all of it boiled down into three simple words.

“Rayla… I love you,” Callum confessed, his whole body feeling light all of a sudden. She needed to hear him say those three little words, so he decided to keep trying. “ _Manus, Pluma, Volantus_.”

Something began to prickle up his arms, as Callum saw the runes glow through his sleeves. The prickling continued to grow rapidly all over his arms, until it forced through his jacket, ripping it to shreds. In place of his hands were beautifully soft brown wings, that felt light and so powerful, like an eagle’s or a phoenix’s.

Callum was momentarily awestruck by the sight, thanking everything in the world right now, before heading straight down to Rayla. He rapidly closed the distance between them, until she was close enough to wrap her arms around his neck and she dangled off of it. Moonshadow elves were thankfully light enough. Callum soared up, flapping his wings, staring softly into the smiling eyes he loved so much… the love of his life.

“Callum!” She exclaimed. “But how did you…”

“Because I love you, Rayla,” he finally said it out loud to her, as something so incredibly bright and warm fluttered in her violet eyes. “I really do.”

“I love you too, Callum.” She replied. Those words melted his heart, like butter, as he felt his chest puff up. They kissed, as Callum flapped his wings harder, gliding higher and higher up in the air. Elation erupted in his chest, as he felt Rayla’s heart beat in sync with his. The sky was no limit to him anymore and she was over the moon. From up here, everything felt and looked so small and only Rayla, who was right in front of him and holding onto him, mattered. He slipped through the air seamlessly, until they were as high as the pinnacle.

Callum heard someone cry in pure joy and to his surprise it was Francis’s voice. When he and Rayla landed, Callum could have sworn that there were traces of tears on his face, before they were hugged.

“You’re alive!” He exclaimed, his voice uncharacteristically uneven. “I thought I lost you, I thought I lost my family again.” He said, his breath slightly ragged and hitched. Just as Callum thought they survived and avoided almost certain death, the bear hug was going to kill them.

“As you say, you’re not going to get rid of us that easily.” Rayla said lightly.

“I love you all so much.” Francis said, before he kissed them both on their crowns. Callum felt Rayla grip him even tighter after that and he did the same, bringing the warmth and softness of his wings and feeling his own heart beat faster. They all breathed a sigh of relief. They won. They miraculously survived… against all odds. Rayla’s heart was jumping with joy, whilst Francis’s was unburdened, as it struck tirelessly.

“I did it,” Callum uttered after his spell wore off. “I saved her… I can fly!” His hair was slowly getting wetter, Francis must have still been crying silently.

“Wow, Rayla, don’t you realise how cool you are now?” Callum heard Francis say as he felt a smile twitch on Francis’s face. His breathing, that tickled his hair, was slowly calming down. He continued, his voice attempting to remain even. “Not many can say their boyfriend can grow wings, imagine all the dates you can have soaring high into the sky: the views, the serenity, the rush of wind!” Callum and Rayla both chuckled, as they wanted to pull away, but couldn’t.

“Francis?” Callum checked on him.

“I’m just,” Francis sighed. “I’m afraid of letting you go… I just want to hold on a little longer, just so that I know this isn’t a trick and that the world isn’t going to rip this away from me again.”

“After doing all the running and trying to race against time, Xadia for once can wait for us.” Rayla said after a deep breath.

Silence finally reigned… and it wasn’t long, until Francis suddenly felt heavier to Callum and Rayla.

“Did he just… switch off?” Callum asked.

“Huh, what? I did not,” Francis jerked upwards.

“Is Zym safe?” Rayla finally remembered.

“He is alive, but he’s still sleeping.” Francis reassured as he finally pulled away.

Callum for the first time saw Francis fully. He was covered in dirt, dust and his own blood that still seeped through his injuries on his shoulder and thigh. There were cuts and bruises visible all over him and he had a burn mark like Callum’s but just below his wrist. He was still leaning slightly on his weaker side. It was a look that wasn’t particularly healthy, but one that somehow suited him – a warrior, a relentless fighter, a hero. There was however one thing that confused Callum a little. Francis wasn’t grimacing, but something was a little different about his face… something that Callum couldn’t quite put his finger on yet. Perhaps the shade from the sun hit Francis differently… or maybe it was just his rough bloodied look. Either way, Callum dropped his concern.

“Shall we go down to the main entrance?” Rayla asked.

“It is a little cold here without a jacket.” Callum lamented.

“Let’s, there are a lot of people to go through now.” Francis agreed.

* * *

Francis was polite and patient with the many soldiers and people who wanted to talk to him, since he was still The Prodigy to most of them… but to his friends, he was simply Francis. Although he enjoyed having conversations with others and kept his characteristic level-headedness when doing so, his eyes lit up differently, when he finally entered the main hall of the Storm Spire and saw his friends. He made his way past the generals and leaders of Duren, Katolis and Lux Aurea that crowded the previously empty hall.

“Well, if it isn’t my former student. I heard your daring moves and fighting stunts haven’t dimmed since I saw you fight last time.” Francis was stopped by a familiar voice of his favourite military tutor.

“Master Jonathan,” Francis bowed.

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me so formally? I believe you surpassed me as a fighter, so calling me ‘Master’ now just makes me feel old.”

“I’m sorry, I am so used to it.” Francis smiled. “How are the Duren soldiers these days?”

“Better and better,” he replied. “In fact I’m very happy to say that they have fought very well today, my daughter amongst them. You remember Marie, don’t you?”

“Wasn’t she the one that hid in the bushes whenever we practiced back in your garden and then ran away every single time I spotted her?”

“Yes, that was her,” Jonathan chuckled. “She would have been terribly flustered right now, had she been here. She was here a second ago…”

“Master Jonathan, I beg your pardon but could you please excuse me. I would like to return to my friends. I promise I will converse with you and her later.”

“Of course, although I believe she will rue the fact that she missed you.” Jonathan bowed.

“Believe me, I’m hard to miss. Not only I’m big but I also leave an impression on people.” Francis joked, returning the bow. It was pleasant to see Master Jonathan again, he was the only teacher that treated him kindly throughout the programme.

Francis had enough of the talking for now, as he just wanted to be around his friends. “What use is there to you, Callum?” He grumbled light heartedly, when he reached him and Rayla. “You’re a Sky Mage and possess the powers of thunderstorms, yet you can’t conjure up water.” Callum just shrugged his shoulders. Francis did make himself presentable and although he could impose an intimidating and formidable figure without really trying, the blood was a little too much. Either way, the recovered Zym really missed Francis in the time he was gone cleaning himself up, as he chirped and jumped up to Francis’s face licking it energetically. “Oh, Zym, I know you have your zappy kisses, but when I said ‘thunderstorm’ I was more looking for rain rather than lightning.” Francis didn’t mind however, as Zym landed back on the floor, waggling his tail innocently.

“Sssh,” Rayla put a finger to her lips. “Ezran is coming!”

The whole room submerged into silence as they watched King Ezran, who was accompanied by Crown Guard Soren, enter the main hall. Ezran looked even, but deep down Francis, Callum and Rayla all knew that he was a little nervous. The people stepped to the side, bowing with a fist to their chest, while the elves bowed with their hands crossed in front of them, as Ezran walked by. As the room parted, a path opened to Ezran that led straight to his friends. When Zym saw him, he couldn’t contain his excitement as he galloped to Ezran, with his tongue lolling out of the side.

“Well, I’m happy to see you too.” Ezran giggled, grabbing him in a hug and getting a few sloppy kisses in return. He let Zym out, as he moved towards the rest of his friends. They embraced in a group hug, Team Zym’s group hug. Ezran took a step backwards. He couldn’t forget about grumpy old Bait, as he lifted him into his arms. “I just can’t believe it,” he continued. “Everything we’ve been through together. Travelling across the world and coming here to Eastern Xadia… we did it!”

“We changed things; we made a difference!” Rayla supported him.

“Just the four of us,” Callum said, before getting a displeased bark and croak from Zym and Bait, respectively. “Right, the animals, six of us.”

“Hey,” Team Zym heard the voice of Gren, as General Amaya spoke through him. “Just the six of you, huh?”

“I mean all of us!” Callum quickly corrected himself, awkwardly scratching his neck.

“Incredible,” Francis said. “All of this started because the four of you made a simple decision. It started as just you and now look around the room. Just look how many people are here that were affected by your decision, how many people you’ve touched with your choices.” Francis gestured his hands, spreading them widely. There were also the unfortunate ones that didn’t make it or were on the wrong side of the conflict. And how can you forget the like of Villads, Lujanne, Ellis and Ava, who helped them on their journey? Nothing this big could ever have been done alone. “I mean this whole thing started from a mistake. If not for someone’s hesitation to do one specific thing, then who knows if Zym’s egg would have been found. I’m not sure if I ever thanked you, Rayla, for not killing one of my best friends… so thank you.”

Rayla looked a little caught out by the sudden spotlight she found herself in, but thankfully for her, it was cut short as the room began to shake. Everyone looked confused and panicked, as the rumbling came from the Dragon Queen’s chambers. Was this day about to get even better? Francis, Rayla and Zym seemed to have got the same idea as they ran into the chambers. They were eventually followed by the rest of Team Zym and the rest of the leaders.

Just as expected, those were the sounds of the Dragon Queen waking up from her slumber. Her deep azure eyes looked curiously at the people who entered her chambers. Before she was able to question the presence of humans in her residence, Zym yipped as he ran over to her mother. Zubeia was a beautiful and majestic dragon, despite her age, as she left the humans awestruck at her sight, but the most wholesome and liberating moment for Team Zym came when she sniffed and nuzzled her baby dragon. Reunited at last. Now, they truly did it. Even Bait couldn’t hold back tears.

“Is this a dream?” Queen Zubeia asked, her deep voice echoed around the room. For once, Francis got a little nervous to reply immediately, but before he could, he saw Callum and Rayla hold their hands, presenting them to the Dragon Queen. She gasped. Francis chose to put his arm around Ibis’s shoulder who returned the gesture and General Amaya and Janai held their hands as well and held them up.

“I can’t believe it,” Queen Zubeia was clearly overwhelmed. “Elves and humans are here… and they have brought back my baby! Azymondias, my love and my hope.”

Francis was quite shook by this… and so was probably everyone else on his Team. No one really knew what to say, in fact no one really wanted to say anything, as they just basked in this moment. Three weeks lead up to this triumphant moment… and now the whole world had a chance to move forward, a chance at redemption. They changed and went through so much, it was so unbelievable that it actually happened. In fact, the mere circumstances of them coming together and making it all the way through was a miracle in it of itself.

However their dazed silence was cut a little short. “You!” Queen Zubeia jolted backwards.

“Oh no, not the pronoun game again,” escaped Francis’s mouth, but he quickly regained his composure. “Regina Draconis Zubeia, my name is Francis. I’m with Rayla of Silvergrove, daughter of the Dragonguard Tiadrin and Lain that fought off Dark Mage Viren; King Ezran and Prince Callum of Katolis, sons of King Harrow; and their pet glowtoad, Bait.” Francis pointed to each member of the Team, saying their names loudly and clearly, reminding Queen Zubeia of the simple fact that Rayla was sent to assassinate one of the princes, at her request. “We are Team Azymondias, the ones who found the egg of your son, hatched it and brought across the continent to you. The thousands of people behind me are the brave soldiers, humans and elves, men and women, that rose up against the evil army of Dark Mage Viren to protect your and your son’s lives.”

“Very well,” she replied. “What do we do now?”

“Frankly, I believe I speak for everyone here, when I say that we just want to rest.”

* * *

Time passed by extremely slowly for Francis, as he sat outside, staring into the distance, with his arms and legs crossed. He expected another awful night for him, since over the past week having a sleepless one became a normality… and yet, nothing happened. Nothing smiled at him from the darkness, there were no eyes, no knocking… it was just silent.

In all honesty, Francis wasn’t exactly surprised by its absence, but it did feel weird. Was it truly all over? The first stage, yes. Francis, with the help of others, after four years of learning and discovery, finally got the ball rolling. He now knew that he wasn’t just the crazy radical young man, that had a few stunts in his life and that was all he was. Now people actually wanted to settle for peace and maybe live closer with the elves… the last one maybe was a stretch, peace was definitely the more obvious agenda here. But after all this time, he was listened to. The people that talked to him throughout the day didn’t just talk about his past or questioned his rationale for ‘running away’, now there were people that asked what was next, what was he planning to do.

In truth, Francis hadn’t thought that far, but he knew that with Team Zym by his side, they could make a lot of things happen. Things would be difficult, as the higher they climbed, the further they could fall; the firmer they pushed, the more resistance they would have to push against. It was scary to think how much daunting work there was to do, but after everything that happened today Francis just wanted to leave it all for tomorrow and go at it with a fresh new head… and he wouldn’t be alone. He now firmly knew he had followers, so he didn’t have to do it on his own anymore. He was just happy that he chose the right people around him, he wouldn’t exchange his friends for anything.

Still, no matter how hard he tried, despite his breath being steady and measured, his mind could not let him rest, as the back of his neck and shoulders remained perpetually strained. In all honesty no one could sleep that night. It was almost unusual to the point of feeling wrong, yet oddly relaxing for Francis to know that for once there wasn’t anything planned for tomorrow: nowhere to rush to, no need to set off, no need to prepare for a battle and so on. At least, the stars were pretty to look at, so struggling to fall asleep had its positives.

“Is he asleep?” He heard Callum whisper.

“If you speak this loudly, he won’t be. Did you forget all of my lessons in stealth?” Rayla scolded him lightly, but not quietly enough. “He is such a light sleeper and you know that!”

“Perhaps Callum should consider getting a new teacher or another tutor.” Francis said casually to them. “After all, two heads are better than one.”

“I’m the best stealth teacher Callum could ask for.” Rayla crossed her arms and raised her chin at Francis.

“ _Has she told you about stuff that are only relevant if you are in the Moonshadow form?_ ” Francis signed.

“What are you doing?” Rayla asked.

“Giving you a hint.” Francis explained.

“Yes,” Callum replied.

“What did he say?” Rayla demanded.

“Look, what are you two doing up so late, not getting to sleep?” Francis quickly moved on.

“The same could be asked about you.” Rayla stated.

“I, for one, am trying to get to sleep.” Francis reasoned. “Walking around and giggling super quietly isn’t a sign of trying.”

“Well, we thought to stargaze again, since we are so close to the sky and stars themselves.” Callum explained.

“And the moon isn’t out and shining brightly over the sky.” Rayla added.

“You’re the only bright shining moon I need.” Callum said.

“Ugh, Callum, you’re trying a little too hard with your soft stuff.” Rayla teased.

“Guys, there is a time and place.” Francis requested. “Anyways, can’t you do it in a few days’ time when the moon will be gone completely?”

“Oh, we won’t get another chance, since we’re leaving tomorrow.” Callum replied.

“Leaving?” Francis just about managed to hold back the disappointment in his voice.

“Yeah, sometime before midday,” Callum said. “Me and Ezran need to come back with the rest of Katolis army to reset the kingdom and Rayla wanted to come with us and help.”

“I… see,” Francis said dryly, hiding the twinge of sadness that panged his heart.

“Aren’t… you coming?” Callum asked.

“No, I’m not. I can’t,” Francis sighed gravely. That sadness slowly spread to the other two. “I must do things here first, before I’m ready to come back to Katolis... and the Human Kingdoms too”

“Oh,” Rayla uttered as they both looked dispirited at each other. Callum opened and shut his mouth a couple of times.

“Don’t feel guilty,” Francis told him. “You must help your brother, it’s the right thing to do. Besides you won’t miss me much, I’ll make sure to write letters to you.”

“We should have told you about this, I’m sorry.” Callum looked down at the floor. “It’s just,” he trailed off.

“We just thought that you would for sure come with us.” Rayla helped finish Callum’s sentence.

“As I said, I have unfinished business here and I have a goal to chase.” Francis explained.

“We promise we’ll come back and help you.” Callum said and Rayla nodded quickly.

“Thank you, but are you sure that you want this?” Francis asked.

“Yes, of course. Returning Zym home was only the beginning.” Rayla stated. “We want the same things as you do.”

“Very well,” Francis smiled. “Now, don’t waste all of your farewell tones now, you need to leave some for tomorrow!” They smirked, but only for a moment.

“Francis?” Rayla asked.

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

“Of course, I’m fine.” Francis replied quickly.

“Okay, I just wanted to make sure.” Rayla said, but it didn’t convince him. Callum’s face was also frowning a little. Somehow, Francis got a feeling that this wasn’t about their separation.

“Go on, enjoy the night sky, love birds. That’s an order!” Francis urged, making sure his face shone brightly, not leaving a single trace of sadness. They nodded and quickly ran off to the pinnacle holding their hands.

Francis was alone again. Yet again, he cursed at himself for being awfully freakishly clairvoyant as what he expected to possibly happen long ago, was actually coming to pass now. Unfortunately for him, Nyx’s face also kept surfacing in his mind, as her words rang in his ears. In the end, even if it was a guess, she ended up giving a very accurate prediction. He was afraid of being abandoned and facing his life’s goal alone. He was afraid of ending up being seen as something as evil, cold and hated as Aaravos did in his time… but he would never try to act selfish and manipulate or break apart Rayla, Callum or Ezran from each other so that he wouldn’t be alone. He wasn’t sure if even he would be able to forgive himself for that. After all, his heart shone for all of them, just like their glances awakened joy and energy within him.

Nonetheless, he tried to go back to sleep, but again he couldn’t. Nyx’s face stopped resurfacing, instead moments from the battle kept flashing up. Slowly, moment by moment, the pictures in his mind were recreated millisecond by millisecond with the highest level of detail. The worst one was, the corpse he held in his hands. Francis could feel a grimace on his face, as his constantly high standards and morals screamed at him.

“Francis?” Ezran’s voice snapped him out of the living nightmare he was seeing in his head.

“Yes, Ez?” Francis looked up attentively.

“Are you okay?” Ezran asked.

“Why are you asking?”

“Your eyes aren’t as glinting anymore, they aren’t as youthful, even if that energy is still there.” Ezran said, his voice was really tired. “It’s like there’s a shadow running across your face.”

“It’s… probably nothing?” Francis said with an inquisitive and uncertain tone in his voice. Ezran suddenly looked distressed at him, as he walked up and sat beside him.

“Oh Francis, please tell me you’re going to be fine.” He pleaded, resting his weary head against his side.

“Of course, I’m going to be fine. What else am I supposed to do?” Francis tried to sound light.

“Okay… promise.” Ezran requested.

“I promise.” Francis stroked his hair, as he felt Ezran’s breath steady.

It was a little cold to be sleeping out here, so after waiting for a while, Francis picked Ezran up and carried him into the main hall. He carefully sidestepped the few people who were sleeping on the floor as he took him to their Team’s cosy little corner that was marked with their backpacks. He carefully placed Ezran by his side before planting in the corner himself and made sure that Ezran would stay warm throughout the night.

He still struggled to fall asleep, but at least the faces weren’t coming back. His mind was just an empty limbo. This day just couldn’t leave him alone, it couldn’t end, it had made such an impact on him. He easily lost track of time, but apparently enough time had passed that he heard Callum and Rayla return.

They carefully and tiredly stumbled to them and slumped up against them. Francis felt Rayla’s horn poking him slightly in the cheek, but to his surprise it was Callum next to him and not Rayla. Callum didn’t reach the wall he was so exhausted and instead he slid half way down from it, leaving Rayla’s entire top half arching over him, hence the whole horn poke. Ezran was also drooling on his black shirt.

Francis sighed deeply. This was a little irritating that he kept finding himself in these sleeping predicaments, but it was also a little amusing, especially in hindsight. It probably must have looked completely bizarre and wholesome from the side. Francis sighed again. All of that would be gone tomorrow and he already felt a certain kind of emptiness that came with big departures. Francis felt the Team breathe slowly and steadily. He could feel their heartbeats.

 _Ba-bum. Ba-bum. Ba-bum._ That energetic one was Ezran’s.

 _Da-dum. Da-dum. Da-dum_. The strong one was Rayla’s.

 _Thum-Thump. Thum-Thump. Thum-Thump._ The soft one was Callum’s.

Everything was fine. Everyone was safe. He also however noticed how cold everyone felt… again the draft from the hole in the ceiling wasn’t helping at all. His friends were shivering. Knowing that this would be the last time he would get to share it with them, he took off his cape and carefully spread it over everyone. He felt them inch closer together as they practically all snuggled together underneath his warm and big cape. An equally warm smile came to Francis’s face, as he finally sensed dreams pulling him into slumber. Just before he fell asleep, he suddenly didn’t want this day to end; he didn’t want to let go of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If any of you are interested in football (or soccer, if you are American) then you might find Francis's statement to Rayla about having a chance despite it being impossible familiar. This is an inspiration (or a reference) to Jurgen Klopp's pre-match team talk to Liverpool players, before facing Barcelona in 2019 Champion's League semi-finals. If you somehow don't know about it, then I absolutely recommend checking it out. It's an incredible match, that showcases character, personality, grit and what it really is like to have and be in a proper well synergised team... and it's one of the greatest comebacks in the history of the Champion's League, potentially even history of football.  
> Thank you for reading this far, I have more to say in the end notes of the next chapter.


	25. Epilogue

Over the next few days, the Storm Spire would begin to quickly free up. In fact, only Ibis would stay behind for a few months with the Spire’s residents. It was finally time for Francis to go as well. He stood at the pinnacle, looking at the clouds beneath him, as the sun rose behind him. He was entirely in his head, as a platitude of thoughts kept running across his mind. After almost a week since the battle, Viren’s body that plummeted all the way from here was never found. There was no way he could have survived the fall, but the fact that his body was missing was a red flag for Francis. Of all the prisoners that Katolis and Duren armies took with them, Claudia was never captured and in fact she was never seen since she fled, after him and Soren confronted her after the battle. Two days ago, Francis heard reports of a soldier going missing. All of this didn’t paint a pretty picture and it concerned him… slightly. He still didn’t understand what the entire web eye and the caterpillar thing was with Viren, but it again proved to Francis how lack of morality and boundaries combined with power could corrupt a man, no matter the goodness of ones intentions.

Right now, he had responsibilities and other things to worry about and concern himself with.

“Francis? Are you coming?” He heard Janai call him over.

“Yes, I’m nearly done.” Francis replied. He did promise to help the Sunfire elves rebuild Lux Aurea, so he was going to do just that. He also had a promise to deliver and he hated breaking promises, besides he couldn’t break this one for the sake of the people that affected it, least of all due to his integrity and reputation.

As his green cape gracefully held his stance, Francis hoped that he would be the wind that would help plant the seeds for a brighter future. He put faith that his goodhearted nature would help him prevail and overcome the conflicts, resistance and struggles he was bound to face, alone or together with someone else, including his Team.

He reminisced the group hug. That fleeting moment forever etched in his memory. He only had to think about it and it was like he was there again, at the bottom of The Storm Spire. Their bittersweet goodbyes, it wasn’t forever and they weren’t moving on from each other… he would make sure of that. He had no idea how deeply they missed him, just like they didn’t know how deeply he missed them. Callum, Rayla and Ez just needed a break from all of the crazy things that happened in their first month. He, on the other hand, just couldn’t stop; he needed to keep going. Humans and elves may have been at peace, but the next steps towards his life’s goal needed to be taken quickly, while the trail was still hot. He would continue to prove that he deserved to be the one to lead the charge, as was required of leaders. That he wasn’t just the guy who had a stint at the Pentarchy tournament, chose to leave, carried the egg with Team Zym back to its home and then stood the line in The Battle at The Storm Spire. That he was the shield that would protect others and was who he chose to be, what _he_ wanted to be; not anyone else. That at the end of it all, he was Francis, no one too special or better than anyone else, just a normal person like everyone else. He was unique, sure, everyone had their own quirks and preferences, but achievement and success wasn’t unique to him. With strong self-belief and relentless hard work, anyone could have been in his position.

Francis glanced at the diary he had put to the side. There was still so much to discover and the rare magical potential the book held, intrigued him. If Callum could do it, then maybe he could as well, provided he would understand what the Arcanum really meant. He wasn’t sure if the magic in the book was even real in the first place, but if it was, then a whole new possibility could open up for them. He wondered how it all connected…

“Francis?! We’re leaving!” Janai shouted.

“On my way.” Francis told her, as he hid the diary and put his backpack on.

He cast his sights on the view one last time. The world so beautiful, bright and living. Throughout the day it enchanted you like a beautiful waltzing melody and at night that song became a lullaby to wish you sweet dreams. Xadia sure had its ugly side… but everyone had their secrets to keep. The world was still worth fighting for. But as he stood so high up here, everything seemed so small under him… tiny in comparison to where he was. From where Francis stood, a shadow, his shadow fell over the clouds, over those beautiful lands below him… and Francis was scared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we have come to the end of this story. Thank you so much for reading this and I truly do hope that you have enjoyed it, just as much as I loved writing it (maybe you even learned a few things, who knows). This was a hobby (that got a little bit out of control) to pass time during lockdown. I started writing this mid-April and finished mid-October. I intend to continue writing a continuation of this as a pass time, which is obviously going to be more original. I had a couple of people already who expressed their interest in seeing what comes after this, so I may post it (although if I do, I'm not sure if I should post it like I did this one i.e. once I finish the whole story or just do as I finish each chapter. Maybe let me know?). If you are interested in seeing me post the sequel to this, I would appreciate a comment or a kudos.  
> Thank you once again to everyone who read, commented and gave a kudos to this story. For now, have an awesome and safe day!


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